


Sunday Mornings

by BneJovi



Series: Saturday Nights Gave Me Sunday Mornings [2]
Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-01-04 04:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21191552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BneJovi/pseuds/BneJovi
Summary: The Sequel to Saturday Nights





	1. Chapter 1

**1985**

**Two Hours Out From Los Angeles**

Richie was tired. Bone tired. He waited at the truck-stop with David and his other bandmates while Simon, his manager, paid for the tank of fuel.

“What time is it?” David asked as he sat heavily on the edge of the garden bed.

Richie checked his watch, “Too late to call Amber. I’ll call Jonny when we get to the hotel. He can pass on a message if you want?” He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply to try and keep himself awake.

“Nah, thanks though,” he sighed wearily, “Amber likes to hear my voice. How many more weeks are we doing this?” 

David had flown out to help out with the last few weeks when Paul, his hired keyboardist, had to fly home for a family emergency. Michael, the bassist, and Tovan, his drummer, were both single guys with the love-them-and-leave-them attitude when it came to girls so the touring lifestyle suited them to a tee.

“Er...two, I think,” he shrugged, “Man, I’m fried. Don’t ask me to think, when all I want to do is fall face first into bed. Preferably my own.”

It had been a slow-burn rise for Richie to reach some small level of recognition around the country after he recorded his first album. He’d worked the bar and toiled endlessly over the songs for the album, all with Jon’s unwavering support and help with some songs. They’d written some amazing songs together and Jon was giving writing credits.

Now he’d been on the road for six months and it was wearing thin. He couldn’t wait to get home and into Jon’s arms. He was starting to wonder if he had what was needed to be on the road and chase down success. He assumed it would also come down to whether HeyMan! wanted to keep him on. Simon seemed pretty confident that things were travelling in the right direction.

“Let’s go!” Simon called as he came out of the store, “Sooner we’re on the road the sooner we can get some proper sleep.”

Richie threw the last of his cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out as David stood and stretched with a groan, “But I don’t wanna…,” he complained, dragging his feet, “I don’t wanna sit in that seat for another two hours.”

Richie pushed him toward the bus and up the steps, “Stop your whining. You sound like your son, ya big baby. Get on the bus and I’ll let you have the room while you call Amber.”

“Really?! Half an hour or it’s no deal,” he said, grabbing onto the handrails effectively stopping them both from completely entering the dark cavern of the tour bus.

“Hurry up you two,” Simon groused from the top of the bus steps.

“Half an hour!? You’ll only need five minutes, Lema!” Richie chuckled, “If that! Okay...okay...half an hour. Fuck! You better not leave any DNA on my bed!” He gave David one last shove and the driver closed the door behind them and headed toward their hotel for the next few days.

They pulled into the parking lot of the hotel a couple of hours later and keys were handed out after Simon had checked everyone in and the bus was locked tight. Richie and David together, Michael and Tovan, Simon and the driver. They all separated and fell inside their relevant doors.

“Do not even think of bed,” David said, pushing Richie toward the door again after he’d dropped his bag on a bed, “I get half an hour...remember?”

“Fuck!” Richie groaned, “Then give me all your change if you want me to use the payphone.” He held his hand out in a ‘gimme’ motion.

“Er...I don’t know how much I have,” he said, digging through his pockets, “but it’s all yours. Say hi to Jonny for me.”

“Yeah, yeah…,” Richie grumbled but took a handful of coins from him anyway, “Remember...clean bed and no longer than half an hour.” With that admonishment given he grabbed his room key and went in search of a payphone.

He found one near the hotel reception and did a quick calculation of times. It was nearing midnight which meant it would be about 3 am on the East Coast. He was pulled between wanting to hear Jon’s voice but not wanting to wake him either but the pull of homesickness won and he dropped the coins into the slot. He punched in their phone number and listened to the ring tone.

He was about to hang up when a sleepy voice answered, “Rich?”

Richie smiled and answered, “Yeah, baby. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Mmm s’kay,” Jon mumbled. Richie pictured him snuggled into the pillows all warm and sleepy, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Richie sighed, “We...Er, we just pulled into the hotel in LA. Dave’s got the room for a half-hour while he calls Amber.”

“Course he does, horny fucker,” he said, “Selfish too. Where are you then? Somewhere private?”

Richie looked around his surroundings. It was a small alcove in the lobby area. Not as private as he’d like but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“Lobby alcove. Night manager’s behind closed doors and I can’t see any cameras.” 

He had a fair idea why Jon was asking and he was already getting hard regardless of how exhausted he was.

There was a rustling on the end of the line as Jon shifted in bed.

“What are you doing, babe? How’s Rosie’s doing?” Richie asked. He was actually missing it.

“Mmm don’t wanna talk about the bar just now,” Jon sighed. “Is the alcove dark, shadowy?”

Richie felt a thrill chase through him at how low and sexy Jon’s voice was and he gripped the receiver a little tighter. “Uh-huh. One could do almost anything here.”

“Look down...tell me what you see,” Jon breathed. 

Richie noticed a little hitch in Jon’s breath that went straight to his dick. He turned so that his back was to the main portion of the lobby and palmed himself through his jeans.

“I see those blue eyes of yours,” Richie said huskily, “My pretty baby staring up at me. You’re on your knees. You’re biting on your bottom lip...fuck, babe, you know that drives me fucking insane.”

Jon’s dirty chuckle reached through the telephone line and grabbed him by the balls as surely as if Jon were there in front of him. 

“What else, Rich,” Jon prompted, “What am I doing next?”

“Your hands are slowly running up the back of my legs.”

“Are you wearing jeans? Those really soft ones?” Jon asked, ”Did you know that when you get...hard...in those, I can see the vein on your cock?”

Richie groaned and, with a glance around the lobby, shifted to lean against a wall before his knees buckled beneath him. 

“N-no...were both naked,” he replied as he popped the buttons open on his jeans and freed his aching dick.

“Hmm...even better,” Jon murmured, “I can smell you, your scent. The sweetest ambrosia. I can’t wait to taste you on my tongue. 

“Fuck... Jonny,” Richie breathed as he took himself in hand, “just suck it already. Please!”

“Soon, baby,” Jon scolded, “What do you want to do?”

“Hair!” He didn’t need to elaborate any further. He was stroking himself as he saw himself reach for Jon’s hair, the soft strands slipping through his fingers.

“Fuck yeah...mmm,” Jon groaned.

He loved to sink his hand into Jon’s hair when he was giving Richie head and pulling on it. They’d worked out over the years how much rough play they were both comfortable with given their experiences with the Baxters.

At that moment a tinny, automated voice alerted Richie that more coins were needed. He swore and tucked the receiver under his chin as he scrabbled to drop the requested money into the slot. 

“Ya still there, Jonny?” Richie asked.

“Mmm...oh god...yeah, yeah I’m here,” Jon moaned. 

He heard Jon’s breathing hitch and the soft little noises he made in the lead up to his orgasm. They were all he needed for his body to kick it up a notch. 

“Fuck, baby...I-I need you so bad right now,” Richie said, his voice taking on a vibration from his flying hand. He closed his eyes and pictured Jon again.

“Jonny…ungh...come with me?” He let his orgasm wash over him as his fiancé, on the other side of the country, gasped his name and groaned long and low. 

He came between his fingers, the creamy fluid scalding and copious, as it spilled over, “Uhnn...fuck,” he breathed as the aftershock tremors twitched through him.

“Rich?” Jon spoke through the receiver, “You okay, babe?”

Richie huffed out a chuckle, “You mean apart from my right hand dripping with cum and barely being able to stand upright? Then I’d say I’m doing okay,” he said as he tried to figure out what to do with his hand.

Jon snorted softly over the wire, “There wouldn’t be any mess to clean up if I was there.”

“As hot as phone sex is at...ummm 3:30 am, I wish I was there with you,” he lamented a little sadly.

“You know I’m counting the days, babe,” Richie replied, pulling a face as he wiped his hand on the inside of his T-shirt and down the leg of his jeans before tucking himself back into them and buttoning himself up. “Two more shows then the long haul home.”

“I know,” Jon sighed, “then I’m not letting you outta this bed for at least a week...maybe longer.”

“Sounds like the perfect homecoming,” Richie said softly, “Baby, I’m outta coins so I’ll say goodnight. I’m gonna need a shower then hit the sack regardless of if David’s finished with Amber or not.”

“Okay…,” Jon said, “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Cowboy,” Richie said, smiling at how a silly nickname had stuck over the years, “I’ll ring you after the show tomor-.” The receiver beeped in his ear as the last of his coins ran out. 

With a weary sigh, he hung it up and walked back the shared room. He rattled the doorknob as he unlocked the door just in case David was still busy with Amber, but found his friend face down on the bed, snoring. 

Kicking off his shoes he grabbed his shower stuff and had a hot shower to wash off the bus and the cold, drying come on his belly from the T-shirt before falling exhausted into bed. His last conscious thought was of Jon before he slipped into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Jon**

Jon blinked at the beeping receiver in his hand, sighing as he placed it back in its cradle. He was still feeling drained from the bone-melting orgasm that had screamed through him. He lay back into the pillows, his arm draped over his eyes, being careful not to get his sticky fingers in his hair.

The last few months had been hard. HeyMan! had put Richie out on the road to promote his CD almost as soon as it was released and while Jon was crazy proud of him, he was missing him...badly. 

Their apartment above _Rosie’s_ was too quiet and their bed too cold and lonely. 

He felt a tear escape his closed eyes and swore out loud. It didn’t help that David was out there with him also, after getting an emergency call for help.

He had the bar and the music store to keep him occupied and the families made sure he was being fed with Joan insisting on dinner with them at least once a week, but it still didn’t quell the ache for Richie.

With a groan, he hauled himself out of bed to clean up and get a glass of Jack to try and settle himself back to sleep before his alarm went off in a couple of hours. He eventually fell into a fitful sleep after an episode of tossing and turning and finding one of Richie’s T-shirts to wear.

Later that morning he arrived at work, bleary-eyed and moody. He tried not to snap at his staff or customers but it took all his willpower to do so, the muscles in his jaw popping with frustration.

Eddie arrived after lunch on one of his regular visits to find Jon in the office, hunched over the desk and staring blankly at some paperwork.

“Well don’t you look like a cheery one today,” Eddie commented, “Have you been wearing that face all day?”

“It’s the only one I have,” Jon said sarcastically, “so yeah.”

Eddie stopped dead at the level of snark in Jon’s voice. “I guess I walked into that one,” he said almost to himself, “I haven’t seen you this bad since the hearing. What’s going on, Jon?” 

“Fuck...I’m sorry, Eddie,” Jon sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face, “Richie called this morning when they reached LA. I guess I didn’t sleep that well after that.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” Eddie nodded, “Amber is the same but your nephew is keeping her busy.”

“What do you expect,” Jon smirked, “when you know who Colton’s dad is.”

Eddie chuckled and with a shake of his head said, “Even as a boy, David could not sit still to save himself. We honestly don’t know how he got through school.” He sat himself down at his desk and faced Jon, “Take the rest of the week off and go out to him.”

“What?!” Jon exclaimed, “But what about the store and...and the bar?”

“Son, you’ve got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” Eddie said, “Smoother than what I ever could. I don’t think I can mess that up in a week, do you? Same goes with the bar. Amy can look after it and you can always call every night to check-in.”

“So...surprise him?”

“Sure! Why not?” Eddie shrugged, “You know Richie only has two weeks left, tops, then he’s back here.” 

Jon could feel the smile spread slowly over his face as he could see the advantages to Eddie’s suggestions.

The duty manager at Rosie’s was more than capable of looking after things and Eddie worked the shop here, Jon couldn’t think of a reason not to take a trip out west and surprise Richie.

“Are you sure?” Jon asked Eddie again.

“No,” Eddie said, shuffling around some paperwork in front of him, “Actually, I’ve changed my mind.”

Jon, shocked, skewered him with a disappointed look. Eddie seemed to sit there calmly as he left him hanging in suspense for a few agonising moments. 

“Fly out there and come home with him on the bus. Send David home on the plane to get him out of your hair. I won’t tell Amber he’s coming home early, so she and Colton will get a surprise.”

Jon grinned and let out a whoop of happiness. “Damn it, you had me convinced you were changing your mind, old man,” Jon said fondly with a shake of his head.

“Good. It’s set then,” Eddie nodded and brushed his hands together, “Now get outta here.”

Jon jumped up and grabbed his jacket, making sure his keys and wallet were in there before he opened the office door. He stopped suddenly and double-backed to throw an arm around Eddie from behind and drop a quick kiss to his cheek, “Love you, old man,” he said fondly and raced out the door.

He gave some quick instructions to the staff, apologising for his mood today and told them that Eddie was in charge till he got back. He pushed open the shop door and took a deep breath, feeling happier than what he had earlier that morning. 

He pushed through the mid-afternoon pedestrian traffic as he headed for home, stopping at the first travel agent to book the earliest and cheapest flight to LA. It was going to be red-eye getting in around 9 am and then he had to find a way to the hotel on their itinerary.

An hour or so later, Jon let himself into the front door; to the left, at the base of the stairs leading to their apartment, was the connecting door to Rosie’s which was standing open at the moment. The staff used the accommodation entrance as an alternative entrance during the day before opening hours. 

Jon stuck his head in and looked around. Spying Amy behind the bar cutting up the garnishes for tonight, Jon stepped in and called out to their most senior duty manager, “Amy! Just the person I need to speak to. How are you, darlin’?”

“I’m good, Jon!” she replied with a warm smile, “What’s up?”

“Can you, Jack and Megan look after Rosie’s for a week or so?” he asked, “I’m flying out tonight to surprise Richie and I’ll come back on the bus with him.”

“Oh, he’ll love that! Sure thing, I’ll ring the others when I’ve done this,” the older woman said, “Oh! Speaking of phone calls. Richie’s mom called earlier, looking for a number to contact Simon on. I wasn’t sure if I could hand his number out, so I said I’d get you to call her.”

“Mrs S rang here?” Jon asked curiously, “Did she say what she wanted?”

Amy shook her head and shrugged, “No, but she sounded a little subdued or something. Not her usual self.”

“Huh...that’s okay, I’ll give her a call now,” Jon said and kissed her cheek. “If you get stuck while I’m away, call Eddie first before you call Alec.”

“If I don’t see you before you go,” Amy said as Jon started back toward the door, “have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Jon grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her and said, “Oh I’ll do that and a whole lot more.”

Amy’s dirty chuckle followed him out the door and up the stairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, unlocked their door and threw his jacket on the sofa. He grabbed a can of coke from the fridge before heading into the bedroom to pack; just a pair of jeans and a couple of T-shirts. If he needed anything better than that he’d wear something of Richie’s. 

Jon gathered the necessities from the bathroom, slipped his Walkman and some cassettes, including Richie’s, on the top and finally closed the carry-all and checked his watch. He still had a few hours to kill before getting to the airport. 

With a sigh, he flopped on the couch and reached for his guitar. He started plucking out some tunes, fiddling with some lyrics when he remembered he had to call Mrs Sambora back.

Lighting a cigarette, his guitar lying beside him on the couch, he snagged the phone from the coffee table and rested it on his lap. He dialled the numbers and inhaled on his smoke as the call connected.

“Hello?”

“Mrs S, hi, it’s Jon,” he said into the mouthpiece, “Amy said you rang earlier.”

Amy was right. Even in that one word, Jon could tell something was wrong.

“Oh, Jon!” Joan said, “Thank you for calling back. How are you, dear? Did you have a good day?”

“Fine thanks and yes, it’s turned out to be a better day than earlier,” Jon grinned at the turn of events, “How are you?”

Ignoring Jon’s question, Mrs Sambora continued, “I...we need to contact Richard. Do you have a number I could reach him at?” 

She sounded sad and a little jittery. Jon frowned, concerned. Richie had inherited his love of life and happy demeanour from his mother, Jon had come to learn, so it was easy to tell when something wasn’t right with them both.

“Is there anything I can do? I’m actually flying out there in a couple of hours,” Jon said taking another deep drag on his cigarette. Something was up, he could feel it, but couldn’t put his finger on it, “I can pass on the message for you.”

Jon listened to the noise of her moving the phone away and maybe a hand covering the mouthpiece slightly. 

“Adam,” Joan’s muffled voice came through, “Jon is flying out. Maybe it would be best to wait for him to be there for Richard. What do you think?”

Adam’s voice carried but Jon couldn’t understand what the actual words being said were. He’d grown fond of them over the past few years since Richie’s assault. He’d gone from having nothing and no one of value in his life to being surrounded by loving families that had accepted him within their folds.

“Jon...do you have time to come over before you go, sweetheart?” Joan asked, sadness clearly evident in her voice, “I’ll make you some dinner before you leave.”

“Mrs S...is- is everything okay?” Jon asked. He had an ominous feeling squirming in his gut.

“Oh Jon…,” Joan murmured, “Just come over. We’ll explain more then.” The line went dead.

For the second time that day Jon was left with a beeping receiver in his hand, staring impotently at it.

Stubbing out his cigarette with a little more force than was needed, he quickly tidied the apartment and checked his carry-all again. Making sure he had his ID to pick up his ticket at the airport, he locked up and checked in again with Amy before heading to his car. He threw his luggage on the front seat and settled himself in for the drive to the Sambora’s. 

About half an hour later Jon was pulling up in front of the small house. He opened the car door and stood beside the open door, looking up at the house as though he would be able to discern what was about to happen just by the exterior. He grabbed his bag and slammed the door closed, locking it behind him, and trudged up the path to the front door.

It still felt weird coming here without Richie but Adam and Joan had made sure he had been included in everything since Richie was released from the hospital. He pressed the doorbell and waited. There was no way he’d ever just let himself in without Richie with him; he still had the visceral fear of _parental figures_ where things like taking liberties were concerned, in case he did something wrong and had to pay the punishment.

A moment later Joan opened the door to him. 

“Jon, sweetheart, come on in,” she greeted him with a warm hug.

Jon dropped his bag just inside the door and shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Something smells good in here, Mrs S.”

“Just a simple minestrone tonight.”

“Where’s Mr S?” 

Jon knew he hadn’t been well in the last months, with a nagging cough that had left him breathless. Richie questioned Jon relentlessly about it in their phones calls when Adam first came down with the flu.

“He’s upstairs...sleeping. I’ll go let him know you’re here,” she said, “There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen if you’d like some.”

“Let him sleep,” Jon said.

Joan shook her head, “No, Jon. He wants to see you. I’ll be right back.” 

She headed up the stairs as Jon, curious as to why Adam would insist on seeing him, wandered into the kitchen and poured himself a mug of coffee and poked around, peeking into saucepans on the stove, appreciating the aroma of what was on offer for dinner. 

He was trying to remember when he was last here; maybe two weeks ago, he thought to himself, or was it three? He’d been busy with both the store and the bar just trying to make it through the days without Richie, falling into bed exhausted at the end of the day. Flo was harder to brush off with the excuse of being busy but he always made sure he called the Samboras a couple of times a week or Joan would call him to check-in.

Jon heard movement on the stairs and then Adam’s wracking cough. Walking back into the living room, Jon gasped in shock at Adam’s appearance. He was gaunt and pale, the skin of his face was sunken and drawn, making his face look skeletal, as he leaned on Joan heavily as he came down the stairs. Jon set his mug down on the closest surface and ran to help Richie’s father.

“What the hell?” Jon exclaimed as he settled Adam in his usual chair. Joan got a footstool and tucked a rug around her husband. 

“What’s going on, Mr S?” he asked as he looked between them both and crouched on the floor at the older man’s feet. 

From behind Adam’s seat, Joan pulled a small oxygen tank and slipped the mask over Adam’s face. 

“Do you need anything, dear?” Joan asked her husband who shook his head in the negative. She fussed around for a moment before taking her seat, avoiding Jon’s question.

Jon scrubbed his hand over his face, mentally kicking himself for not coming out here sooner. Frustrated and confused, he sprang to his feet and started pacing in the small space as questions barrel-rolled through his head. This was not the flu, Jon was sure of that much even without being told.

“This...this is what you want to tell Richie about?” Jon asked angrily, an ugly, cold dread seeped into his bones. “This isn’t just the flu, is it?”

Adam removed the oxygen mask and motioned for Jon to come closer, “Jon...son...come sit over here.” 

Jon’s chest was tight and tears were prickling behind his eyes as he took in the seriousness of the elder Samboras. He dragged his hands through his hair with a small anguished cry, hoping the pain would distract him a little, but did as he was asked, taking his position again at Adam’s feet.

“It’s not the flu,” Adam said hoarsely, “It hasn’t been for a while now. I have cancer, Jon, and we need you to be there for Richard when we tell him.”

Jon shook his head in denial as a tear tracked down his face.

“Why not wait until he gets home?” Jon asked desperately but he had a feeling he already knew the answer, “We… we can come home early. Then...then you can spend some time together. I’m- I’m sure that would be-.”

“I don’t have that long, Jon,” Adam said as Joan started to quietly weep. “Shh Joanie...it’s okay.” He took his wife’s hand and kissed her fingers.

“But...but what about treatments? I’m sure there’s-,” Jon grasped at straws.

“It’s too far gone now, Jon,” he said returning his gaze to Jon, “I- I want Richard to remember me in happier, healthier times.”

“We are so grateful to you for bringing us to our senses and healing the rift in our family,” Joan said as Adam put the oxygen mask back on. “We know that you’ll look after Richie and be there for him when he hears.” She smiled down at Jon and cupped his cheek lovingly.

“But...what...no…,” Jon said, shaking his head, barely able to comprehend what was being relayed to him.

“Jon…,” Joan said, holding Jon’s face, “I need you to look after him; his heart. For Adam...and for me.” 

Jon held her beseeching look and nodded, “Of course. He’s not going to come out unscathed but I’ll be there to put him back together.”

“That’s all we can ask of you, Jon,” Adam said, his eyes drooping, “Joanie...go feed our boy now. I think I’ll just sit here and nap for a while.”

“You should go up to bed, dear,” she replied.

“Not yet,” he said and closed his eyes.

Joan presses her fingers over her lips for a moment and closed her eyes, then with a sad sigh, rose from her chair and indicated for Jon to follow her to the kitchen.

She was dishing up a bowl of steaming soup when Jon came in. Joan set the dish on the table and said, “Sit, dear, and eat. I’ll pour you another coffee, shall I?”

“You’re not joining me?”

She shook her head as she poured Jon a fresh coffee. “No, I’ll wait for when Adam wakes and make sure he gets some nourishment,” she said, placing the cup in front of Jon and sitting beside him. “Eat. You’re going to need all the sustenance you can get too.”

“Can I be honest with you?” Jon asked as he toyed with the food in front of him.

“Of course, Jon,” Joan said, sipping on her own coffee, “Haven’t you always?”

He flashed her a quick look then said, “I think holding something like this back from Richie sucks. It’s gonna kill him, you realise that, don’t you? How long have you known?” He dropped the spoon against the dish and pinned the small woman with his glare.

“We’ve known for about six months now-.”

“What the hell, Mrs S?! Why the f-,” he let out a frustrated breath, “...hell didn’t you say something sooner so that Richie could be prepared,” Jon exclaimed in an angry whisper. 

He was pissed beyond words and couldn’t hold back any longer. It truly baffled him that they’d known this long and hadn’t said a word to anyone.

“Because that’s the way Adam wanted to handle it,” she snapped back at him, tapping her finger on the tabletop for emphasis. “I’m about to lose my husband and my child’s father, Jon. Do not question a dying man’s decision.”

“Richard had his album release and tour coming up...Adam didn’t want him to throw it all away to play nursemaid. He wants Richard to have something...more...in his life than what he had.”

“He’s so proud of Richard, Jon, as am I. So please, just let him do it this way.”

They glared at each other for a long moment.

Jon sighed, dropping his head to his hands, “I’m sorry, Mrs S...for being such a selfish fuck. I didn’t think about it from your side.” 

His voice hitched with emotion as he spoke, “But just imagining losing Richie like you’re about to lose Mr S...is killing me. I d-don’t know how you’re doing it.” 

“I’ve...I’ve never had to go through a loved one’s loss before. Fuck...I’ve never had people I’ve cared about this much before.”

“Your love for Richard is the sole reason we’re entrusting you with this,” Joan said fondly as she rubbed a soothing hand over Jon’s back as he cried into his hands. He turned in his seat and into her motherly embrace.

After a short while, Jon’s tears dried and he swiped the back of his hand under his nose. “I’m sorry...for crying all over you,” Jon mumbled, a little embarrassed at his breakdown.

“What’s a few tears between family, huh?” she replied with a small smile, “Now, eat! Your soup will be cold. I’m just going to check on Adam.” She rose and kissed Jon on the top of his head as he’d seen her do countless times over the past few years with Richie.

Jon finished his meal and rinsed his bowl, stacking it into the dishwasher before going back into the living room. Joan was sitting with Adam, who was awake for the moment, talking quietly together.

Jon hated to interrupt but he’d have to make a move toward the airport soon. He stood in the doorway and cleared his throat before entering, giving the older couple some warning that he was there.

“Umm...I’m going to have to get going soon if I’m going to catch the train to the airport,” Jon said as he made his way into the living room to sit on the edge of the couch, “So...how do you want to do this? How much do you want me to tell Richie?”

Adam dragged the mask from his face and took a sip of water before answering, “We’ll phone the hotel the day after tomorrow. That will give you both some time together. Create some happy memories for him, son, before I pull the rug out from under him.”

Jon nodded and sighed, staring at the carpet as he thought about how he was going to get through the next day.

“Give him the letter, Joanie,” Adam said to his wife.

Joan rose and plucked an envelope from the mantle and crossed the room to hand it to Jon. “It’s for Richard from Adam. Don’t let him read it until we’ve spoken to him.”

“Okay.”

“On that note,” Adam said, “I think I’ll retire upstairs for a while.” He struggled to push himself from the chair as Joan moved to his side for support.

“Here...let me,” Jon said and handed the envelope back to Joan as he slipped Adam’s arm around his shoulder and helped him up the stairs. Adam’s once sturdy frame was reduced to wasted muscles with no strength left in them. Jon could have lifted him into his arms and carried him up but gave him a little dignity by allowing him to walk assisted instead. 

Once inside the master bedroom Jon helped Adam onto the bed, fluffing the pillows behind him and handing him the oxygen mask from the canister beside the bed.

“Thank you, son,” Adam said wearily and indicated for Jon to sit for a moment, “You’re a fine young man, Jon. You’ve been a blessing to this family, I hope you know that?”

“Thank you, Mr S,” Jon said and clasped Adam’s hand, “Thank you for seeing Richie for the man he is and allowing him back home. I know that meant the world to him. I promise I’ll be there for him.”

“Don’t let him throw his music away because of me either.” 

Jon nodded in agreement.

“My only regret will be not seeing you both grow old together,” Adam said, closing his eyes as a tear escaped the corner, “I guess I’ll be watching from wherever I end up. I’m so tired now. Safe travels, Jon. I won’t say have a good time because, well…”. Adam fell silent and eventually into sleep.

Jon gently lowered the mask over Adam’s face and pulled the comforter over his legs before leaving the room. He trudged wearily down the stairs, scrubbing his hand over his face. 

Joan met him at the bottom. “I’ve called you a cab, sweetheart, to get you to the train station on time. Leave your car and keys here and I’ll make sure it’s looked after.”

“Thanks, Mrs S,” Jon said and gave her a hug, “for everything. You go on up, I’ll lock up when the cab is here.”

Joan smiled with a nod and said, “Goodbye, Jon,”, handing the envelope back to Jon who tucked it into the side pocket of his carry-all. He watched her walk up the stairs as he hauled his jacket back on, left his keys at the front door and picked up his bag. 

He needed a cigarette desperately, so headed out to the small porch at the front, pulled the door firmly behind him to make sure it locked. 

As he lit a smoke, it was as though Mother Nature was mourning too, as a light rain fell into the night. He was taking his last drag as the cab arrived. Extinguishing the cigarette against the concrete pathway, he flicked the stub away and jogged to the cab and threw his bag and himself into the back seat.

“Train station, thanks,” Jon said without being asked and the cab pulled away from the curb and into the night. He had the feeling that it was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Richie**

Richie woke after a solid twelve hours of undisturbed sleep feeling refreshed and less foggy-headed than what he’d been over the past couple of days.

He rolled over to look at the other bed, but David seemed to have gone already. Richie groaned, stretched, lit a cigarette and moved to sit on the side of the bed as he woke fully.

He smiled and flopped backwards again when he remembered his phone call to Jon and the resulting orgasm and dirty shirt. He guessed he’d have to wash his clothes today before they headed out to set up for the gig. He scratched at his balls as a tingle of remembered sensation coursed through them. He needed to pee anyway so he got up and took care of that before he started the shower.

As the tingles only increased instead of dissipated so he took advantage of the solitude and the warm water. Richie reached for the shower gel and coated his hand and brought his most treasured memories of Jon to the fore. 

The night of Jon’s birthday when Jon stood before him on the dance floor and kissed him for the first time then later that night, naked and needy beneath him; when he woke from his coma and seeing Jon’s baby blue eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and then the night he’d proposed, all combined to bring him to orgasm swiftly.

“Two weeks, baby,” Richie groaned softly, “Two more fucking weeks.” 

He couldn’t wait to be back in Jon’s arms again. He missed his warmth and humour, his quick smiles that told Richie exactly what kind of mood Jon was in at that moment, but most of all he missed Jon’s tight little body that responded to his touch eagerly. He could never get enough of it.

Richie was coming out of the bathroom as David came into their room. “Ah Sleeping Beauty arises at last,” he said, “Simon wants us outta here in an hour and a half to go set up early.”

Richie grunted in acknowledgement as he found some clean clothes, grimacing when he came across the soiled shirt from last night. He set it aside, along with a few other items.

“Yeah, okay,” he said finally, “That’ll give me time to wash these.”

“Mr Domesticity,” David snorted, “Why not just wear them as is?”

“Well Mr Gimme-Half-An-Hour,” Richie replied and balled up his shirt and threw it at him, “you figure it out.” 

The shirt hit David in the face giving Richie his first laugh for the day with David’s look of abject horror when he picked the stuck-together shirt from his head.

“Oh fuck, no!” he yelled and threw it back before racing past Richie to the bathroom to wash his hands and face and Richie fell back onto the bed holding his belly from laughter.

A moment later David emerged, towelling off his face, pinning Richie with a glare. “So you two had phone sex in the hotel lobby?! Gross, man,” he said still scrubbing at his face, “You suck, you know that?”

“Well, ya see, that’s the problem,” Richie said. He had the devil on his shoulder at the moment so he decided to bait David further, “It’s usually Jonny that does the sucking…”

“Okay! Okay!” David fell on his bed and buried his head in the pillows, “I love you guys but I don’t want to have to hear about who sucks who.”

“It’s ‘who sucks whom’, man, didn’t you learn that at school?” 

“Fuck off!” The muffled curse came from deep within the pillows and Richie could help but laugh at his discomfort. He only just managed to duck when a pillow came hurtling his way.

*~*

A few hours later, Richie, David and the rest of his band had hefted their equipment into the bar they were playing and set it all up, sound checked and had gone to a nearby diner to have a quick meal, getting rowdier the closer it got to showtime.

“The waitress is giving us ‘that’ look, guys,” Simon said when he saw the woman talking to a man and pointing their way, “Hit the road you lot. I’ll settle up.” He stood and walked to the cashier as Richie, David and the rest of the guys threw back the last of their drinks or stuffed their mouths with a final morsel and exited out into the early evening.

They walked back to the club in a group, the nucleus shifting and changing constantly as pre-show adrenaline started to kick in. Michael and Tovan were greeting all the pretty girls as they walked, promising each one the moon and the stars if they came to the show tonight.

“If nothing else, we’ll have a bar full of pretty girls to look at tonight,” David said to Richie as he dropped back to walk with him after helping the other boys with their latest targets.

“Yeah it ain’t hard on the eyes, that’s for sure,” Richie chuckled.

Simon caught up to them, slightly puffed from the jog down the street, “Hey Rich, I forgot to tell you I had a call from X today. He said Tico and Hugh are really pleased with how the album and tour are going.”

“Great! Any news on anything in the future?” he asked, his mind already collating songs he’d written in his downtime on the road.

“Nah, not yet,” Simon replied, “I think they want to see if the first one floats out here for a while after you finish up this week.”

They’d reached the front door of the bar and Richie hauled the heavy door open, “Well then, let’s go kick some LA ass tonight, boys!”

They performed two solid sets that night, the crowd swelling significantly by the end of the second set that finished just after midnight. Richie mixed up the set-list, peppering some bluesy covers and some heavier rock numbers in amongst his original works just as he would have at _Rosie’s_. 

In fact, that’s how his approach had been toward the end of the tour when homesickness started to bite his ass; just pretend he was back home in Rosie’s with Jon waiting for him at the end of the night. It made things bearable especially when their nightly phone calls ended up like the one last night. 

_One more night and a few thousand miles to go,_ he thought, _then I’m not letting Jonny out of bed for at least a week._

Toward the end of the second set, Richie looked through the lights and into the crowd when a familiar head of dark, messy hair caught his eye above the throng of patrons. Richie kept an eye on him as he sang and smiled widely as the man turned toward the stage and raised his drink toward him with a dirty smirk that Richie remembered well.

Nikki! 

Richie hadn’t thought about Nikki in years so it was a surprise to see him here of all places. They played their last song for the night and watched Nikki as he made his way through the crowd toward the side of the stage. Girls threw themselves at him and melted away with one look or smile from the tall brunette as though he was made with some kind of non-stick coating. Richie remembered the same scenario when they dated all those years ago before his Nikki saw how much of Richie’s heart had been stolen by Jon.

The last song ended and Richie thanked the audience and the band took their bows, leaving the stage exhausted but amped up from the adrenaline from the show. Richie headed straight for Nikki and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“Nikki fucking Sixx!” he said as he held Nikki back a little, raking his eyes over his past lover, “How are you, man?”

“Richie fuck-me Sambora! I’m doing okay.” 

Nikki smiled and patted Richie’s cheek, his hand lingering there awhile as his thumb brushed over the skin beneath it, “Look at my little street rat performing up on stage...looking good, babe!”

“Thanks, Nik,” Richie smiled affectionately, rubbing his cheek into Nikki’s hand before catching himself, “Hey...you got time for a drink, man? Come back and meet the band. David’s here, too.”

“So I saw…,” Nikki nodded, “Sure, I got a little time.” He threw his arm around Richie’s shoulder as Richie led the way to backstage.

“Hey guys,” Richie called to grab everyone’s attention, “I got an old friend I’d like you to meet.”

He introduced everyone as they packed up their equipment, storing it for hauling out by the paid crew, and watched Nikki shake hands with everyone, putting David into a headlock when he reached him.

“Good to see you, Davey!” 

“Oof,” David grunted as the taller man’s arm tightened around his neck, “You haven’t changed, Nikki,” he gasped.

Nikki released him with a chuckle, “So where’s Jonny, Rich? Don’t tell me you two broke up? How long did it last?”

“No, we’re still together,” Richie said, “He’s back home, waiting patiently.”

“They got engaged,” David offered.

“Is that right?” Nikki pinned Richie with an inquisitive stare.

“Yeah...a lot happened after you left,” Richie nodded, “Some stuff not so good, but making Jon mine made up for it.”

“Then how about you and I grab a drink at the bar and you can fill me in,” Nikki said, hooking his arm around Richie’s neck again, leading him back out to the bar.

David, Michael, Tovan and Simon followed them out and dispersed throughout the crowd. Simon to finalise the night with the bar manager and the others in search of company for the evening. They’d all find their way back to the hotel at some stage.

Nikki bought the drinks and led Richie to a table toward the back where it was quieter so they could talk.

“Thanks, man,” Richie said accepting his drink as he settled into the chair.

“So, babe…spill!” Nikki prompted, “Tell me what’s been going on while I’ve been away?”

“God, where to start?!” Richie chuckled.

“Okay then start with,” Nikki said, “how the fuck did you end up here, in Cali, with a two-set slot here and a record on the shelves.”

“You been checking up on me, Nik?” Richie smiled.

“Well, kinda,” Nikki had the good grace to blush a little, “I’m kinda known around here so when I saw your name up on the marquee I had to find out if it was really you, so I did some digging.”

“How do you mean you’re well known?” Richie asked.

“I get around,” he shrugged noncommittally. “Keep going,” he urged Richie.

He thought about where to start and how much he wanted to let Nikki in on but realising it would be easier to jump in with both feet and get it over and done with.

“Al gave me an old run-down bar to manage when I couldn’t go back to the streets for him,” Richie said before taking a long pull on his beer. 

Sometimes the memories of that time still beckoned him from the dark, luring him into their sinister embrace. 

“So I couldn’t afford bands to come to play, so I got up there in the quiet times. Word got around and the place started to fill on the weekends. The execs for HeyMan! came to see me one night and,” he held his hands up around him, “Here I am.”

“Wait a minute…” Nikki stopped Richie, “Al...as in street Boss Al? Gave you a bar to run? What the fuck?!”

“Right?!” Richie grinned at Nikki’s confusion, “Turns out he runs legitimate businesses as a side hobby. I couldn’t face going back to work on the streets after...after the rape... so he made me the manager of a failing bar.”

“I worked it hard, turned it around and started making profits for him.”

Nikki sat back in his chair and regarded Richie, making him squirm under the scrutiny.

“You just casually drop the rape word and expect me not to take notice?” Nikki said eventually. He wrapped his large hand around Richie’s wrist and squeezed a little, “Tell me.” 

It wasn’t a request it was an order. Richie drained his beer and Nikki indicated to the bar staff for another round.

“The night after Jonny’s birthday...I was due to go back to work. I didn’t want to go especially after finally getting Jonny into bed,” Richie smiled, “but you know how Al is about punctuality, so I accepted the all-nighter he has booked for me and head out.”

“I should have known better...the address should have given it away…trusted my gut more,” he scrubbed a hand over his face as the _should-haves_ repeated themselves in his mind. 

“Anyway…before I knew it, I had a handkerchief full of chloroform and everything went black.”

“Fuck!” Nikki swore softly. Their drinks were placed in front of them and Nikki smiled up in thanks to the waitress.

“I came to, chained up by my arms to a steel beam.”

Richie didn’t want to remember the next few hours but he refused to let it take over his life and he’d been successful in that so far, since the assault happened, so he pushed on after taking another mouthful of his drink.

“Turns out Jonny’s foster dad was a real piece of fucking work. He and his wife had been using foster kids in their care for their own pleasure as well as selling them to their friends.”

“Jonny was the last. He got away after the last attempt to fuck him...that’s the night I found him in the street, remember?”

Nikki nodded.

“So Baxter, the sick piece of fuck, had been looking for Jonny since he ran, to make sure he wasn’t going to talk by taking him back...but I’d gotten in the way.”

“He and his wife beat me that night,” Richie said softly, retreating into his head a little, “Fists, feet, whatever they could find...then they sodomised me with a baseball bat before raping me.” 

He heard Nikki’s gasp and felt his comforting hand on his arm, “They dumped me on the street. Whether they thought they’d killed me or just left me there to die, I’ll never know.”

“Rochelle found me and called the police and paramedics before taking off. She told me later she watched over me from a distance, to make sure they found me. She’d already been arrested that week for prostitution so didn’t want to be done again.”

“Did they catch the fuckers?” Nikki asked, his voice dripping with venom.

“The police?” Richie qualified, “Not before Al did. Or Al’s enforcers. They were found dead in a car a week later with the bloodied bat they’d used on me.”

“I would have shoved that bat up their sick fucking asses,” Nikki snarled.

“It was.”

“Good!” Nikki paused to drain his drink and look around the club, “So...are you...okay?”

“Can I still take a shit normally? Can Jonny still top me?” Richie asked rhetorically, “Yeah.”

“Fuck, man,” Nikki sighed, shaking his head, “So please say you’ve got some good news?!”

The two men spent the next hour catching up on each other’s lives until David pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Rich, I hate to interrupt but are you ready to head back to the hotel? The van is ready to leave in about ten minutes,” David asked, “You can have the room phone tonight too.”

“Aww didn’t like getting my cum-shirt thrown in your face earlier? Yeah, I’m ready,” Richie chuckled and stood up. He then turned to Nikki, “We’re back her tomorrow night. Can you call in again?”

“Sure, man,” Nikki stood to embrace Richie, whispering in his ear, “I’m happy for you, baby. You’re one of my special memories.” He pulled away a little and kissed Richie, taking him by surprise.

Richie melted into the remembered sensations, giving into them for a moment. It wasn’t until he heard David clearing his throat somewhat discreetly that he pulled away. Richie blinked at Nikki who licked his lips with his dirty smirk.

“Haven’t lost your touch, babe,” Nikki said as he adjusted himself blatantly. “If I’m not here, just ask at the other bars on The Strip; they’ll know where to find me.” 

He threw some cash on the table and casually made his way through the crowd, being stopped along the way as he had been on the way in, earlier. What Richie didn’t see was the money and small packages exchanging hands with each stop before slipped through a door to the back office. 

“Rich?”

“Not a word, Davey.” Richie stalked off toward the backstage area to collect his gear and meet up with whoever else was heading out.

He grabbed his gig bag and guitar and climbed into the waiting van to transport them back to the hotel. He grinned and shook his head at his rhythm section; both guys with girls on their laps, barely coming up to breathe.

Richie fell into a seat and dropped his head onto the back of it, closing his eyes. David followed him in and took the seat behind him. 

He couldn’t get Nikki’s kiss from off of his mind and the feeling from his lips, let alone the interest his dick was taking in his introspection. He puffed out a frustrated breath and threw his arm over his face. He just wanted a shower now and to call Jonny before he fell asleep.

“I’m not laying blame, Rich,” David said quietly, just behind Richie’s head, “That kiss was all on Nikki. Just be careful, huh?”

“Thanks, man,” he replied.

It was a short and raucous trip back to the hotel; the van pulled up and spilled its contents on the waiting pavement. 

Michael and Tovan peeled off and escorted their evening entertainment into the small hotel bar, leaving Richie, David and Simon to walk through the carpark to their rooms.

“You guys put on a great show tonight,” Simon said with a clap on Richie and David’s shoulders. “One more to go then we can all go home. Get some sleep, you two. G’night.” 

David and Richie waved and grunted their goodnights and kept walking towards their room. Richie’s mind was fuzzy from all the alcohol and exhaustion. 

_I must be tired,_ he thought, _that homeless dude looks like Jonny sitting in the doorway. God, I wish it were him. I could use some of his loving, right about now._

David, who was a few steps ahead of him, turned and smacked his hand in the centre of Richie’s chest suddenly, startling him out of his reverie.

“What the fuck, bro?!” Richie groused.

“Stop right there and gimme your guitar and bag, Rich,” David said holding his hands in a ‘gimme’ motion, “Don’t ask questions, just do it.”

“God, you’re fucking weird sometimes, Lema,” Richie sighed but handed his gear over to his friend, “Now...tell me what’s-.”

David stepped aside and let Richie see what he’d seen. The homeless guy sleeping in their doorway had miraculously morphed into a sleepy-eyed Jon, slowly rising to his feet.

“Jonny?!” Richie breathed and took one tentative step closer. “Babe?!”

Richie felt a sob stick in his throat and his knees almost gave out as Jon started walking toward him, with a tentative smile and said, “Surprise, baby!”

Richie closed the gap between them and swept Jon into his arms, crushing the blonde against him as their lips met in a searing kiss. Richie didn’t know he’d been drowning until just now when Jon rescued him, breathing life-giving air into his soul. All dark thoughts were washed away in one single moment.

Richie broke from the kiss, planting his hands either side of Jon’s face as he took every minute detail in, trying to grasp the fact that Jon was there in his arms and not on the other side of the country.

“What...how?” Richie said. “Fuck! I don’t care...you’re here!” 

For the second time that night, David cleared his throat behind him, yet Richie couldn’t drag his eyes from Jon’s lest he disappears; an apparition or figment of his imagination.

“I’m...I’m just gonna get some stuff out of the room and then bunk in with Simon,” he said, “Good to see you, Jonny! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow sometime, I guess.” 

“Thanks, Davey,” Jon mumbled.

He walked past them with Richie’s gear as well as his own, and unlocked the room, re-emerging a few moments later with his toothbrush and a pair of sweats.

“Have fun, you two,” he smirked on the way out and walked back to Simon’s door and proceeded to pound his fist against it.

Jon reached up, his fingers sinking into the back of Richie’s hair and pulled him down for another kiss as he walked backwards into the room. Richie kicked the door closed and fumbled with the lock before they both tumbled onto the closest bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Jon**

Jon’s flight touched down a little after 1 am, relatively on time. He was drained and tired even though he’d managed to sleep a little during the flight. He was thankful he didn’t have luggage to collect so managed to skip the queue at the carousel and head straight for the cabs.

He jumped in the first one and gave the driver the address. He avoided as much small talk as possible, preferring to gaze mindlessly out the window as the vistas flashed past. It was his first time in LA but he couldn’t even fathom getting excited about it just yet. All he wanted was to hold Richie again.

It was after 2 am when the driver pulled up to the hotel. Jon could see the tour bus parked in the carpark so knew he was at the right address. He paid the driver and grabbed his bag. He stood on the sidewalk for a long time. He didn’t even know if Richie would be back from the gig yet. With a small shrug, he hitched his bag on his shoulder and walked up the drive and past the reception to look for Room 12.

Room 12 turned out to be the last on the ground floor. He knocked and after receiving no reply, had a look through a crack in the curtains. It seemed to be deserted.

“Can I help you?” a voice from behind startled him.

“Oh shit!” Jon gasped and spun on his heels. He saw an older guy wearing a shirt with the hotel logo embroidered on the pocket, the night manager or security obviously, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” the guy said blandly, “Saw you lurking around on the cameras.” He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Jon’s face.

“My friends are in the band,” Jon pointed to the bus, “I flew out to surprise them. Do you know if they’re back yet?”

“Not yet,” he said, “I can’t let you in, so don’t ask. Security reasons. I’ll be keeping an eye on you so don’t try any funny business.”

“Man, I’m too tired to try anything,” Jon sighed, “It’ll be a different story when the guys get back. Hope the bed doesn’t squeak.” He indicated with a toss of his head to the room behind him.

“Ugh! You’re one of those,” the guy sneered down his nose at Jon and spat at his feet, storming off in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Fucker!” Jon swore at the retreating figure. 

It wasn’t the first time he and Richie had come across homophobic people, especially since the AIDS epidemic had hit, but they tried not to let it get to them and kept most of their overt public affection for their small group of friends. Tonight, he couldn’t have cared less.

He leaned wearily against the door and let himself slide down to sit in the doorway. He pulled his jacket closer and leaned his head against the jamb. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen asleep until he started dreaming about Richie.

“What the fuck, bro?!” he heard Richie say.

“Stop right there and gimme your guitar and bag, Rich.” 

_David?! What’s he doing in my dream,_ Jon thought. 

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” David urgency broke through Jon’s consciousness.

Jon opened his eyes slowly. He wasn’t dreaming. Richie...his Richie was right there. He slowly got to his feet behind David’s back.

“God, you’re fucking weird sometimes, Lema. Now...tell me what’s-.”

David stepped aside. 

Jon’s heart was hammering beneath his ribs when he saw Richie’s face. He looked exhausted and shocked but the prevailing look was of pure, unadulterated happiness.

“Jonny?!” Richie breathed and took one tentative step closer. “Babe?!”

Jon started walking toward him, with a tentative smile and said, “Surprise, baby!”

Richie closed the gap between them and swept Jon into his arms, crushing their lips together in a searing kiss. 

Richie broke away, planting his hands either side of Jon’s face. Jon smiled softly at Richie as he searched his face. He didn’t care if Richie’s fingers dug a little too deeply into his scalp, he knew he was trying to process the fact that he was there.

_Create some happy memories for him Jon...before I pull the rug out from beneath him._ Adam’s words circled through his head.

“What...how?” Richie said. “Fuck! I don’t care...you’re here!” 

David cleared his throat behind them, “I’m...I’m just gonna get some stuff out of the room and then bunk in with Simon,” he said, “Good to see you, Jonny! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow sometime, I guess.” 

“Thanks, Davey,” Jon mumbled, barely conscious of anything other than Richie.

He walked past them, re-emerging shortly after. “Have fun, you two,” he smirked.

As David pounded on Simon’s door, Jon pulled Richie to him once again. He’d been thinking of Richie’s lips in his waking moments on the plane; he was never able to get enough of them.

He started walking backwards, trusting that David had left the door open. They bounced off the door frame once before Richie kicked the door closed and quickly locked the door behind them. 

Jon landed onto the nearest bed and Richie’s weight was a welcome one on top of him. He scrabbled to push Richie’s jacket from his shoulders and almost rent his T-shirt in two to get to his skin. He felt the urgency in Richie as well, as his hands went to Jon’s belt and jean fastenings, fumbling to get them open in his rush.

Jon was on his knees, face buried into the bedding and his jeans down around his thighs before he knew it, with Richie’s mouth delving between his cheeks, his tongue rimming his ass with abandon.

“Fuck, Jonny,” Richie panted, standing and hauling Jon around like a rag doll, “Sorry, babe, it’s gonna be hard and fast this time.” 

“Don’t care! Fuck me, Rich,” Jon whined as he felt the smooth head of Richie’s cock line up with his moistened opening. “Yes, Rich...do it...make it hurt good, babe.”

“God...Jonny,” Richie said through clenched teeth as he pushed through the tight muscles slowly, “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Jon hissed at the pull of flesh on flesh as Richie sank further into him. He reached back and groped for Richie’s ass as he pushed back. Jon was rewarded with a groan from Richie as he tightened around him, impatient to feel all of Richie.

“You said...hard...fast,” Jon breathed heavily, pushing back again. “Give it...now!”

“As you wish,” Richie said and spat where their bodies joined to provide a basic lubricant.

Richie started moving, thrusting, growling low in his throat as Jon felt his back exposed to the air-conditioned room when Richie pushed his t-shirt up to bunch under his arms. The sting of fingernails down his back sent a shiver along Jon’s spine, goosebumps racing after them as Richie’s hips pounded against Jon’s ass.

“Jonny…,” Richie breathed, “missed you, baby, so much.”

Jon felt Richie’s hands everywhere, re-claiming him, search and seeking out his special spots and it was heavenly. Pushing up from his elbows onto his knees only, Jon hooked his arm back around Richie’s neck, twisting up to find his mouth as Richie’s fingers wrapped around his cock. 

“Mmmm...oh god...Richie,” Jon whimpered, drawing out the last syllable and rocked his hips up into the fist surrounding him. “Almost...harder...ungh….”

Richie shifted so that he had a greater force behind his thrusts and it wasn’t long before Jon came with a shuddery cry covering Richie’s hand with his hot cream, his muscles contracting and relaxing all over his body as the aftershocks coursed through him with every extra stroke to his sensitive cock. 

“That’s it, baby,” Richie crooned in his ear, “Mine...my pretty baby...all mine.”

He was barely aware that Richie had used his sticky hand to sweep aside his hair, pulling Jon’s head to one side and clamping his mouth on the pulsing vein, almost vampirically as his release shook them both.

Frozen in time and space the couple barely moved other than to draw in lungfuls of air as their bodies recovered. Richie eventually softened and slipped from Jon’s warmth, both mourning the loss with a melody of whimpers.

“Oh fuck,” Jon panted, finally able to verbalise as he leaned back against Richie, his denim jacket and t-shirt still weirdly stuck half on-half off. He plucked ineffectually at them as Richie’s hands ran over his stomach, through his pubes and between his legs, twitching when Richie started fondling Jon again. 

He let out an amused half chuckle, half hum and said, “Really?! That quick?”

“Hmm we might have to hit the shower first, though,” Richie said nibbling and licking up and down Jon’s neck, “I got your cum in your hair.”

“Oh, okay...” Jon yelped, “Wait! What?! Eww...how?” He started laughing, falling into a heap on the bed.

“Fuck...you want me to think right now?” Richie smiled as wide as the Cheshire Cat and laid down beside Jon, propped up on his elbow. 

Jon lay basking in Richie’s gaze, feeling thoroughly loved. “Happy, babe?” he asked, tugging on the ends of Richie’s hair as his free hand sifted gently through Jon’s chest hair and brushing over his nipples making him squirm.

“You have no idea,” Richie sighed and leaned down and gently pressed his mouth to Jon’s. 

“But as much as I really want to just hold you close and make love to you again, if we don’t get that cum out of your hair, I’ll have to take the scissors to you and cut that mane of yours.”

Jon gasped in mock-horror and shook his head, hissing like an alley cat, “Stay away from my hair.”

“Also...this is Davey’s bed,” Richie grinned.

Jon let out a bark of laughter. He then groaned and pushed Richie over on his back when he felt an insistent growth against his hip as Richie moved closer.

Kicking off his shoes and shedding his clothes quickly, he straddled Richie, capturing his hands above his head, linking their fingers together. “How about we really mess it up then before we shower?” Jon murmured and was rewarded with an animalistic growl from Richie as he arched up to him.

**

Later in the shower after Richie had thoroughly washed Jon’s hair, they let the warm water wash over them as they stood entwined, sharing soft, slow kisses. 

“Earth to Jonny,” Richie chuckled. 

Jon was almost out on his feet, feeling the effects of being awake for a good twenty-four hours and change in time zones. He’d laid his head against Richie’s shoulder and had almost fallen asleep.

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“I asked you if you were hungry?” Richie smiled and turned off the shower finally. 

Jon shook his head and allowed Richie to help him from the small stall, accepting a towel and started drying himself. 

“Too tired,” Jon said, “Besides...your mom’s minestrone is filling.” 

_Fuck! Why did he have to mention his parents?_ Jon mentally face-palmed himself.

“You saw them? How are they?” Richie asked as Jon wrapped the towel around his waist and went in search of his bag for his toothbrush.

He let out a weary sigh when his hand found Adam’s letter first. He closed his eyes, dreading the next twenty-four hours. He finally found his toothbrush and went back to the bathroom.

“They said they’re gonna ring tomorrow...or I guess, today now...after your last show,” Jon said, hoping it was going to be enough to stave off any further questions. He cleaned his teeth quickly and left the bathroom as Richie finished drying himself.

He crawled into bed as Richie stood in the doorway, watching him, as he towelled off his hair. 

Jon knew Richie wasn’t satisfied with his answer and a hot, prickling started behind his eyes. He closed them and threw his arm over his face.

“Jon.”

Jon peeked out from under his arm when he felt the bed move beside him. The room was as dark as early dawn would allow and Richie had sat on the bed waiting for him to answer.

Jon rolled to his side and pulled the covers back further and said, “Mookie...I’m really tired. Let me just hold you and let’s leave the real world outside for now?”

He heard Richie sigh as he laid down and Jon drew the covers over them both.

“You want to be the big spoon tonight?” Richie asked softly.

“Yeah,” Jon smiled into the dark, “Do you mind?”

“Whatever you need, babe. I’m just happy you’re in my bed tonight,” he replied and kissed Jon softly before rolling over to be the little spoon. 

Jon sighed contentedly as his fingers traced tiny circles on Richie’s belly and he buried his nose deep into Richie’s damp hair. 

Jon waited until he thought Richie had fallen asleep then whispered, “I love you, Mookie…whatever happens.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Richie**

Pounding. 

At the door. In his head. In his veins. In his heart.

He could account for three out of the four; two of them directly attributed to the man in his arms and the other to the copious amount of alcohol consumed before the shock of seeing Jon sobered him somewhat.

The pounding at the door could only mean one thing, or person, in this case...Davey.

“Go ‘way!” he shouted as Jon shifted and curled into his side.

“Dude, it’s almost three and I need my own clothes,” David said from the other side of the door. “There is no way I’m wearing Simon’s clothes to the gig tonight. It’s bad enough I’ve had to borrow some today so I could go eat!”

Jon offered up a half groan, half chuckle kind of noise and shifted to his belly before pulling a pillow over his head. Richie lifted the pillow slightly and said, “Hiding, babe?”

“Yes!” Jon pouted, then threw a pillow at the door when David started pounding again.

“C’mon, you two...how many more times do you need to fuck already? Just lemme in for two minutes?!”

Snagging his sunglasses from the nightstand, Richie groaned and got up from the warm cocoon of their bed, not bothering to cover up and stooped to pick up Jon’s pillow, throwing it back to him. 

Richie smiled at Jonny’s grumpiness at being woken. Richie had figured out over the years that if he wanted Jon to wake in a good mood, he had to do it on his terms...or with a blow job. The latter worked every time.

“At least another ten times. Two minutes, that’s it!” he yelled through the door before throwing it open to let David in. He held his hand up to block some of the glare from outside, even though his sunglasses were firmly on his face.

“Ugh, really?! Couldn’t use a towel at least?” David grumbled and stepped inside as Richie closed the door. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. “I hate you both, right this minute, and now I gotta watch you two getting all lovey-dovey and sneaking off for the whole trip home,” he grumbled as he pulled his suitcase open and rummaged around for clothes.

Richie fell back on the bed beside Jon and looped his arm over his back and kissed his shoulder. “Actually, we probably won’t leave the bunk.”

There was a grumble from approximately where Jon’s head was under the mound of pillows. David looked at Richie for an explanation but only received a shrug in response.

“What did you say, babe?” Richie asked, stroking a hand down the expanse of his back to rest on the upward curve of his ass.

Jon groaned and pulled his head up from his pillow cave, bunching one beneath his head with a jaw-popping yawn. “I said that there’s a plane ticket waiting for Davey at the airport for the red-eye back home after tonight’s show. Eddie’s idea.”

David let out a whoop and scrambled over his bed and threw himself on top of the others, “Really?! I’m going home tonight?!” he asked burying himself in between his friends, disregarding the fact they were both naked.

“Yes!” Jon laughed, “Now get outta our bed, you nut job.”

“Dude! We’re naked!” Richie protested.

“I know! And now I’m too afraid to look anywhere or place my hands anywhere,” David replied, “so one of you will have to move first.”

Jon threw his head back and laughed at David’s comment and Richie’s heart swelled at the sight. He was so happy that Jon was within arms’ reach. He caught Jon’s eye and winked, beckoning him over with a crook of his finger. Jon grinned and nibbled on his bottom lip and Richie had to stop himself from groaning out loud.

“Jesus...the things we do for you, Davey,” Jon grumbled with a grin and climbed over the top of him, deliberately making contact with David’s back and breathing heavily near his neck and ear, before ending up in Richie’s waiting arms.

“Ugh! Did your naked-ass self just touch me?!” David yelped in mock horror, “You both still fucking suck, you know that?!”

“Yes, I did!” Jon grinned evilly, “But you didn’t specify how you wanted me to move...just to move.” He reached over and kissed David on the cheek, “Now you can tell Amber you’ve been in bed with us.”

“And unless you want to be a willing participant in what’s about to happen next,” Richie added with amusement, “I’d be packing my stuff and getting outta here.” 

Having Jon’s ass snuggled in against his cock was causing a major issue that won’t be hidden for much longer. He dragged Jon back against him harder and was rewarded with a surprised intake of breath from his lover.

“Okay, okay,” David said, “Give me a minute!” He jumped from the bed and raced into the bathroom to grab all his toiletries and dumped them haphazardly into the open suitcase. “We’re going out for dinner again, too. Leaving at 7 pm. Are you two going to spend all that time in here?”

“Hmm...maybe,” Jon stretched and yawned, as Richie took advantage of his movement and rolled his own hips against Jon’s hard cheeks, his slippery juice spreading easily between them.

“Not maybe, Jonny,” Richie murmured in his ear. He softly kissed down Jon’s neck as the blonde shifted to expose more of it to his mouth. Jon sighed and moaned softly. “More like definitely.”

“Oh god…,” David groaned.

“Why are you still here?” Richie paused from his exploration of Jon’s neck.

“I’m not sure if I’m grossed out by watching my almost-brothers getting hot and heavy with each other or turned on by it,” David shrugged.

“Get out!” both Richie and Jon yelled making David jump and zip his bag closed.

“See you at 7!” he said as he scampered out the door.

“Thank fuck!” Richie groaned and scooped Jon’s top leg up to Jon’s chest and sank himself deep within Jon’s waiting body. He was still open from last night and Richie’s slippery fluid made for easy entry.

“Oh god,” Jon breathed as he pushed back against Richie, “How I’ve missed waking up like this. I can’t wait to get you home, baby.”

“I’m home already,” Richie replied softly as he felt Jon’s heat radiate through his own body as he slowly gathered speed.

“Huh?”

“You, Jonny. You’re my home, my pretty baby.”

“Oh Mookie,” Jon sighed and reached for Richie’s hand, linking their fingers together.

**

Everyone had gathered in the car park near their hired mini-van and guitar cases, waiting for the last two to arrive. The rest of their equipment was locked in a storage area at the venue, to be collected and transported back after the show tonight.

A cheer went up as Jon and Richie finally left their room, hand in hand.

“About fucking time!” Tovan called out good-naturedly.

“That’s all they’ve been doing since Jon got here,” David added, sending the small group off into fits of laughter.

“Fuck off, the lot of you!” Richie flipped his band and manager off. Hearty greetings and good-natured ribbings were made between Jon and the others before they all climbed into the van for the drive to the venue. There was a lot of chatter about setlists and arrangements as Simon drove; which songs worked well last night and which didn’t work so well.

“Hey Jon, you should come up with us for the last night,” Michael said, “Richie told us how well your voices blend together.”

“Nah, the last night should just be the four of you,” Jon replied with a shake of his shaggy hair, “You guys have worked hard for it.”

“C’mon, babe,” Richie joined in, “just one song. Your choice.” Richie gave Jon his best pleading eyes, knowing Jon had trouble denying him anything when he pulled that look on him. He’d actually been toying with the idea of getting Jon up with him so he was ecstatic that Michael had suggested it first.

“One song!” Jon rolled his eyes at Richie and held up his finger. He stopped and thought for a moment before offering, “Troubled Waters?”

“Aww yeah!” David cheered, “You’re both amazing on that one!”

“Let’s do it then,” Michael said.

“Hand me my guitar,” Richie said to Michael and with some rearrangement of seating, started picking out the chords, “Eyes on me Jonny,” he said softly and started singing.

Once Jon’s nerves had disappeared and he lost himself into the song, Richie let his voice fade back a little to let Jon’s take the stronger lead. Tovan took up the beat on the back of David’s seat, his drumsticks never far from his reach. Michael and David provided extra backing as they tweaked the arrangements on the fly. Richie was thankful that his band worked together so seamlessly and had transitioned flawlessly from being a pub band to touring band.

Pulling up into the venue’s car park, they quickly unloaded their guitars into the backroom with the rest of their stuff and headed out to the same place as the night before to eat.

**

The crowd seemed as big as the night before and the band were on fire. Richie had put everything he had into his solos and vocals; he didn’t need to save anything for another show since this was the last. The crowd against the front of the stage were mainly females who were happily flaunting themselves to the band, which Richie shamelessly played up to. Jon was watching so he knew he was walking a fine line but for the most part, Jon seemed to be enjoying himself as much as everyone else was. 

He did catch fleeting looks of distance and concern from Jon but thought nothing of them, putting them down to tiredness or reacting to a couple of the women getting too close to him at the front of the stage. He’d watched Jon fend off a few of his own advances too, with a shake of his head and a small smile as he pointed to the stage.

“Thank you,” Richie acknowledged the applause at the end of the last song, “Just gonna slow things down for a moment. I got someone I wanna bring up here with us. Jonny?! Get up here, babe.”

He saw Jon drain the remainder of his drink and leave the glass on the closest tabletop and weave through the crowd. Richie hugged Jon with one arm, the other holding his guitar out of the way, and whispered in his ear, “Just you and me, babe.” He felt Jon exhale in a huff and nod against his shoulder.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my best friend, my saviour, my partner in all things...Mr Jon Bongiovi.” Richie let Jon take the applause and the smiles and come-hither look from the girls, watching with pride.

Richie counted them in and hit the opening notes, letting the music swell and the crowd hushed. Jon took the first refrain, his voice taking on a haunting quality as he looked to Richie with a small smile.

_When you're weary, feeling small_  
When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all (all)  
I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough  
And friends just can't be found  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down 

Richie took the second verse as he held Jon’s eyes until he couldn’t any longer; seeing all the emotions in them. He looked so sad, almost on the verge of tears. 

_When you're down and out_  
When you're on the street  
When evening falls so hard  
I will comfort you (ooo)  
I'll take your part, oh, when darkness comes  
And pain is all around  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will lay me down 

Richie frowned at him in an unasked question but the only reply was the small shake of his head. Jon then shut him out by closing his eyes, but not before noticing a sheen of tears, which really concerned and confused him.

They both sang the last refrain, sharing the microphone, their words and breaths mingling in the most perfect blend of harmonies. 

_Sail on silver girl_  
Sail on by  
Your time has come to shine  
All your dreams are on their way  
See how they shine  
Oh, if you need a friend  
I'm sailing right behind  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will ease your mind  
Like a bridge over troubled water  
I will ease your mind 

As the last note faded to rapturous applause, Richie drew Jon in for a long hug. He wanted to do more but instead kissed his cheek and asked, “Are you okay, babe?”

Jon gave him a slow blink and one of his wide smiles as he nodded, waved to the crowd in thanks before leaving the stage. Richie watched him disappear into the crowd to the bar before his attention turned back to finishing out their set with a couple of more songs.

“Thank you! You’ve been a great crowd both nights! We hope to see you soon...goodnight!” Richie and his band gave their final bows before dismantling all their equipment. Richie was keeping an eye out for Jon, eventually finding him sitting at the bar nursing a beer and talking to Simon. When everything was packed and ready to be loaded into and onto the van, they all hit the bar ready for a celebration.

He moved up behind Jon and slipped his arms around his waist from behind, and rested his chin on Jon’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly.

“You were amazing, babe,” Richie said, “Thank you for making tonight special.”

Jon sighed, glancing at Simon who was trying to get the bartender’s attention and leaned back against Richie. “It’s what I do...just trying to make some happy memories.”

“Jonny...what’s wrong?” Richie noted that Jon’s eyes were red-rimmed as though he’d been crying and that he seemed a little drunk. Richie looked between Jon and Simon, who was studiously avoiding him.

“Nothin’s wrong, Mookie,” Jon said, wiping a hand tiredly down his face, “I’m just a lil drunk, I guess, and the song got to me maybe...I dunno.”

“Hey!” David said, bouncing up to them, “I’m catching a cab from here. Si, make sure you take good care of the keyboards, man?! Rich, thanks for the call-up...I had a blast!”

“Wouldn’t have called anyone else, brother,” Richie grinned and hauled him into a bear hug, “Glad Amber let you come play for as long as you did! We’ll pay you back somehow, man...maybe look after Colton one day?! How does that sound, Jonny?”

“Hmm?” Jon looked up, “Oh, yeah sure! Fly safe, Davey. Ticket is under your name.”

“See ya back home,” David said, waving before hoisting his carry-all over his shoulder and threading through the crowd to the exit.

“Hey, Simon?!” Richie tapped his manager on the shoulder, “We might make it an early night tonight, huh? So we can hit the road early tomorrow?”

“Not a bad idea,” he replied, “Let me debrief with management and round up the other two.” He vacated his stool, leaving Richie to slide into it.

Richie took his cowboy hat off and popped it on Jon’s head, reaching for his hands, “Now...my pretty baby, tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.” He chafed his thumb across Jon’s hand as he waited for him to speak.

“Ahh, Mookie...I just got a lot on my mind,” Jon sighed.

“Like?”

“I didn’t check in on the store or the bar last night,” Jon said, “so I was just wondering how they’re all doing. I mean, Eddie should be able to handle the store but-.”

“So when we get back to the room,” Richie said, cutting him off, “I’ll give Rosie’s a call and check-in, okay? I’m sorry I had to leave it in your hands. Has Al been causing problems?”

“No! Not at all, actually,” Jon smiled genuinely, “He drops in occasionally, usually with a girl or two, has a drink then leaves. Even pays for his drinks.”

“I’ll ring home too after I’ve checked in at the bar,” Richie said. Jon took on the pinched look from earlier. Richie looked around the club and saw a dark corner booth. He stood up and pulled Jon with him, “Come with me, babe.”

Richie led Jon to the booth and gently pulled him in. It was infinitely quieter and Richie pulled Jon onto his lap. Jon slipped his arm around Richie’s neck and laid his head on Richie’s shoulder.

“Now...Cowboy...tell me what’s going on? I get you’re tired...but there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Richie felt something shift within the man in his arm; was it a sob, a shudder or a laugh, he wasn’t sure.”

“Jonny? C’mon babe...ya gotta talk to me,” he pleaded.

Jon pulled back and looked at him. Richie fought the urge to squirm under Jon’s gaze.

“Mookie...please forgive me,” Jon said sadly, “but it’s not my place to say anything.”

“Then who?! Who do I need to speak to?!” he snapped. “Tell me, Jonny!”

Jon chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking, then said, “Let’s find Simon and get back to the motel so you can call your parents.”

“My parents…,” Richie breathed, a sudden dread settled in his gut. He stared, unseeing, at Jon as all the off moments since he arrived started to drop into place. There was something wrong...very, very wrong.

Jon moves off Richie’s lap and moved from the booth and held out his hand to Richie, “C’mon babe…we’ll do this together, okay?!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING**: For those who have suffered through the nightmare that a cancer diagnosis has meant for yourself or for a loved one, I don't mean any disrespect. You're all heroes in my eyes. I hope I've done justice to the grief felt by everyone. If this will affect you adversely, please don't continue to read. #FuckCancer Jxxx

**Jon**

He will always remember the moment that he held Richie as he spoke to his parents and his heart shattered into minute pieces, Jon’s own heart tearing open as Richie heard the news that Adam was dying of cancer. Shock and pain replaced the colour that had drained from his face and his eyes lost their life, turning to a dull, muddy brown.

**

They’d made good time back to the hotel but unlike the night before, the mood of the van was sombre. Jon wasn’t sure if Simon had said something to Michael and Tovan when he pulled them from the bar or whether it was Richie’s zombie-like demeanour that rolled off him in waves, they respected the seriousness of the situation.

Simon had found him at the bar after he’d come off stage. Jon had ordered a double Jack straight, trying to fend off the overwhelming sadness. Why he had had to choose that song was beyond his own comprehension. In the van, he had only been thinking of their own back story; how they became best friends before they became lovers and the support they gave each other. 

But at the show, it dawned on him that Richie would be taking a phone call that would change his life forever. He barely held it together through the last verse and he could see the concern on Richie’s face as they shared the mic. He’d left the stage and headed straight to the bar where Simon found him, pulling at his hair as he hid his face.

“Jon...are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” Jon said, feeling the need to unload on someone, “I can’t...I don’t know how to do this….”

“What are you talking about? Do what?” Simon sat down on the stool next to Jon, “Are you and Richie having problems?”

Jon shook his head, “No! God, no...but his heart is gonna break tonight,” he hiccuped, “I’ve never had parents...I don’t know what it’s like to lose anyone I care about. I don’t know how to do it.” Jon threw back the remaining liquor and nodded to the bartender for another.

“Jon, I think you need to tell me what’s going on,” Simon frowned and paid for Jon’s drink, “coz I’m not following you.”

Jon turned to face the older man and sighed, “Richie’s dad has cancer and probably only has days left. They told me the night I flew out here so...so that I could be there for Richie when they tell him on the phone tonight.”

“What?! Why didn’t they tell him sooner?” Simon exclaimed.

“I dunno...some shit about Adam wanting Richie to remember him healthy and happy,” Jon shrugged, “and I’m not supposed to say anything until they call him.”

“Ah fuck, Jon! That sucks, man,” Simon replied with a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Listen...if there’s anything I can do, just say the word. We’ll get you both back home in time if that’s what Richie decides.”

“Thanks, Simon.” They sat in silence, both lost within their own thoughts until Richie slid his arms around Jon’s waist.

“You were amazing, babe,” Richie said, “Thank you for making tonight special.”

Jon sighed, glancing at Simon who was trying to get the bartender’s attention and leaned back against Richie. “It’s what I do...just trying to make some happy memories.”

“Jonny...what’s wrong?” Richie asked.

“Nothin’s wrong, Mookie,” Jon said, wiping a hand tiredly down his face, “I’m just a lil drunk, I guess, and the song got to me, maybe...I dunno.”

“Hey!” David said, bouncing up to them, “I’m catching a cab from here. Si, make sure you take good care of the keyboards, man?! Rich, thanks for the call-up...I had a blast!”

“Wouldn’t have called anyone else, brother,” Richie grinned and hauled him into a bear hug, “Glad Amber let you come play for as long as you did! We’ll pay you back somehow, man...maybe look after Colton one day?! How does that sound, Jonny?”

“Hmm?” Jon looked up, “Oh, yeah sure! Fly safe, Davey. The ticket is under your name.”

“See ya back home,” David said, waving before hoisting his carry-all over his shoulder and threading through the crowd to the exit.

“Hey, Simon?!” Richie tapped his manager on the shoulder, “We might make it an early night tonight, huh? So we can hit the road early tomorrow?”

“Not a bad idea,” he replied, “Let me debrief with management and round up the other two.” He vacated his stool, leaving Richie to slide into it.

Richie took his cowboy hat off and popped it on Jon’s head, reaching for his hands, “Now...my pretty baby, tell me what’s really going on in that head of yours.” He chafed his thumb across Jon’s hand.

“Ahh, Mookie...I just got a lot on my mind,” Jon sighed.

“Like?”

“I didn’t check in on the store or the bar last night,” Jon said, trying to think on his feet which wasn’t easy considering the double Jacks he’d been throwing back tonight, “so I was just wondering how they’re all doing. I mean, Eddie should be able to handle the store but-.”

“So when we get back to the room,” Richie said, cutting him off, “I’ll give Rosie’s a call and check-in, okay? I’m sorry I had to leave it in your hands. Has Al been causing problems?”

“No! Not at all, actually,” Jon smiled genuinely, “He drops in occasionally, usually with a girl or two, has a drink then leaves. Even pays for his drinks.”

“I’ll ring home too after I’ve checked in at the bar,” Richie said before looking around. He stood up and pulled Jon with him, “Come with me, babe.”

Richie led Jon to the booth and gently pushed him in. He slid in beside him and pulled Jon onto his lap. Jon slipped his arm around Richie’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to have to look into Richie’s eyes because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the facade.

“Now...Cowboy...tell me what’s going on? I get you’re tired...but there’s something else, isn’t there?”

Jon drew in a shaky breath as he fought for control of his emotions.

“Jonny? C’mon babe...ya gotta talk to me,” he pleaded.

Jon pulled back and looked at him. “Mookie...please forgive me,” Jon said finally, “but I can’t, it’s not my place to say anything.”

“Then who?! Who do I need to speak to?!” Richie snapped. “Tell me, Jonny!”

Jon chewed on his lip for a moment, knowing he couldn’t do what the older Samboras wanted him to do any longer. Richie needed to know sooner rather than later; they’d denied him his right as their son to know the truth for too long and Jon could only see trouble ahead because of that. “Let’s find Simon and get back to the motel so you can call your parents.”

“My parents?!” Richie breathed.

Jon moved off Richie’s lap and moved from the booth and held out his hand to Richie, “C’mon babe…we’ll do this together, okay?!”

Later, when the van pulled up into the car park, Richie almost ran to their room. Simon told Jon to go, that Tovan, Michael and himself would transfer the equipment from the smaller van to the tour bus.

“Good luck, Jon,” Simon clapped him on the shoulder, “You know where I am if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Jon said and hurried after Richie.

Jon walked through the door to see Richie pacing between the beds, restricted by the short length of the cord as he waited for, Jon assumed, his parents to pick up the phone on their end. Jon shrugged out of his jacket and perched himself on the corner of the bed, ready to catch Richie, literally and figuratively, when he fell. He knew deep down that it was going to be a case of ‘when’, not ‘if’.

“Ma? It’s Richie,” Richie said into the receiver. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the receiver.

“Yeah, I know it’s late, I’m sorry,” he snipped, “Ma...Ma! Just listen to me for a minute, will ya?! Tell me what the fuck is going on, will ya? Jonny’s acting all weird-.”

Jon could just hear Mrs S’s voice through the plastic handset.

“Yes, I know I cursed, I’m sorry! But I’m pissed off at getting the runaround from everyone!”

“Yeah, I’ll wait…,” he said. He reached for his cigarettes, tucking the receiver under his chin and lit one, tossing the pack on the bed beside Jon. “What’s taking so long?” he muttered.

“I dunno, babe,” Jon replied with a sigh, hating that he had been forced to lie to Richie. He took a cigarette, lit it and reached for the ashtray on the nightstand, placing it on the bed. “It is only 4 am there remember? Please sit down...you’re wearing a track in the carpet.” He patted the space beside him on the bed.

Richie spared him a quick glance and sat down. He placed the phone on the floor between his feet and propped his elbows on his knees. Jon set his cigarette in the ashtray and shifted closer, laying his head against Richie’s back, looping an arm around his chest in an effort to infuse him with as much of his strength as he could, just by contact alone. There was nothing more soothing than listening and feeling Richie’s heartbeat. He spread his hand over the steady beat, hoping to be able to hold it together in the upcoming moments.

_[Richard?]_

Adam’s voice came through the line, weak, shaky and a little out of breath but Jon could hear him clearly enough from where he sat against Richie.

“Dad?!” Richie said, “What took you so long? You sound terrible. Is that flu still hanging around?”

_[You wake us up at some ungodly hour and expect me to rush to the phone? It takes a little while to get moving these days.]_

“Dad...what’s going on?”

_[Have you finished your shows? How were the audiences there?]_

“Why is everyone being so evasive? Tell me what the fuck is going on...please!”

_[Richard...calm down.]_ The sound of Adam coughing bounced off Richie’s ear as he pulled the receiver away at the rattling cough. _[I have some news, son...bad news, I’m afraid.]_

“Bad news?”

Jon could feel the tension coiling within Richie as he held him tighter and laid small, hopefully comforting kisses against his back.

_[Richard, there’s no easy way to say this...son...I have cancer. Stage 4 lung cancer. It’s...it’s not looking good.]_

There was a long pause as Adam started coughing again. Jon could hear Mrs S in the background as she offered a glass of water and the hiss of the oxygen passing through the mask. 

_[Richard?]_

“Yeah...yeah, I’m still here…,” Richie said softly.

Jon felt a shudder reverberate through him as Richie drew in a shaky breath. Jon shifted his position so that he could wrap both arms around Richie. He felt Richie grip his hand, squeezing tightly.

“When...when did you find out?” Richie’s words came out clipped, angry, through clenched teeth.

_[About six months ago.]_

“And you’re only telling me NOW?!!” Richie yelled and jumped up from where he sat, “What the hell, Dad?! Didn’t you think I’ve had a right to know before now?! I mean...fuck!” He turned and pinned Jon with a glare.

Jon closed his eyes, unable to meet the accusation he saw in them. His eyes burned behind his eyelids as the shame washed over him at holding something so important back from Richie. 

He was lost and floundering in confusion and doubt about what was expected of him; the Samboras had asked him to hold their confidence because they wanted to break the news, but then he never wanted to lie to Richie...ever. He loved him too much to betray his trust.

_[And I wanted you to follow your music! Not play nursemaid to a dying man! We don’t always get what we want.]_

The harsh words had set Adam off into a fit of coughing.

_[I’ve had my time, my life...you need to have your life now. A life filled with laughter, music and love; a life with Jon.]_

“But...I don’t understand?! Surely there’s...there’s treatments...chemo and whatever?!”

_[There was...they didn’t work. Too far gone.]_ Adam’s sentences were getting shorter.

“FUCK!” he yelled, his anger impotently being voiced. 

“I’m comin’ home. I’ll...I’ll get the first flight back home.” His face started to crumple as the pain took hold, his eyes wild and wide.

_[Son...I’m not gonna stop you but...I’d rather you didn’t change your plans...so that you remember me as I was. Not as I am now.]_

“I’m coming home. Fuck anyone that tries to stop me,” Richie cried, “Dad...promise me!” 

Jon’ heart broke as Richie finally broke into sobs, collapsing heavily on the bed as his legs went out from underneath him. Jon wiped the tears from his own face and went to him.

“Promise me you’ll hang on till I get home...please! You can’t deny me this…please?!” Richie pleaded as tears fell, fat tears falling unhindered to the carpet below.

_[Okay, son...I’ll try. But please forgive me if I can’t. So tired now. I’m sorry. Jon has a letter. From me. To you. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Richard.]_

“I love you, Dad! Please...please...don’t you fucking give up on me,” Richie cried, “I’ll be there soon...I promise!”

_[Richard, sweetheart?]_

“Ma,” Richie sobbed, “Is he...is he okay?”

_[Your father is sleeping now. That was very tiring for him. Please don’t blame him, my darling. I’m going to go now and make sure he’s comfortable. We love you, Richard, so very much.]_

Richie let the receiver drop to the floor as the dial tone buzzed through the silent room before he let loose an animalistic howl of pain, slipping from the bed to the floor.

“Baby...I’m so-.” Jon was about to kneel beside him when Richie bolted from the floor between the bed to the bathroom to expel the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

He followed, wrinkling his nose at the acidic smell that hung in the air, rubbing Richie’s back until the retching stopped. When Richie fell back against the door, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, Jon handed him a glass of water and flushed away the discharge.

Jon sat in front of Richie, one leg curled beneath him, the other bent at the knee as he chewed on his thumbnail, watching his lover retreat into his head and shutting him out.

“Rich...are you okay?” Jon asked softly, reaching for his arm. He recoiled as the contact bought his eyes, full of anger, sharply up to Jon’s.

“You knew!” Richie accused him, “You knew and didn’t say anything! Didn’t you?!”

“Yes...but not until the night I flew out here, I swear!” Jon said, shocked at the amount of venom coming from his usual happy-go-lucky Richie.

“You knew, Jon! For two fucking days, you knew!” Richie snarled and stood looking down at Jon, “A letter...dad mentioned a letter, so you knew!”

“I didn’t want to lie to you, baby, I swear!” Jon said, attempting to explain as he reached for Richie again. “I’ve...I’ve never done this before. How do I say no to dying man?”

“You think I know what it’s like?!!” Richie yelled and hurled the glass at the wall, shards splintering throughout the bathroom. “You lied to me, Jonny. The one thing you’ve always sworn you’d never do!” He pushed past Jon and stormed into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jon cried, “I’m so sorry-.”

“What else are you not telling me? Huh?!!” he double-backed on Jon, fisting his hand into his shirt and hauled him to his feet.

“Nothing!” he yelped. He had no idea where the hell this question was going.

“How many girls have you slept with since I was gone? Did you take them into our bed? Did you sink your dick into their wet little cunts?” he taunted Jon, pulling him up close, his free hand found Jon’s cock and squeezed it painfully, “Or was it guys? How many guys did you let have that sweet little ass of yours? Huh, Jonny?”

Jon wrestled himself free from Richie’s grasp, reared back and spat, “Fuck you, Rich!” He raised his fist and hit Richie on the jaw, sending him sprawling. “You don’t get to be an asshole just because your Dad is dying. You know I would never cheat on you. I love you too damn much to fuck it up like that.” 

He stalked over to his carry-all and pulled the envelope from the side pocket and threw it at Richie.

“There...there’s your damn letter,” Jon said, “You can apologise to me later.” 

He grabbed the room key and his jacket before throwing the door open to the cool night air. He didn’t want to wander too far away but he also needed to cool off. He paced the car park until his temper had subsided a little. 

Slumping down against one of the bus tyres, he finally allowed himself to poke at the sore, open wound in his heart that Richie had made with his insinuation. He realised that Richie was dealing with his grief at the moment but it didn’t excuse him that slur. 

He allowed himself to finally grieve, for the Samboras as well as for the innocence lost in his and Richie’s relationship, pulling his legs up to his chest and hiding his tears from the world. He never even heard Richie leave their room as sleep welcomed him with open arms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Richie**

Richie touched his jaw tentatively where Jon had hit him. With good cause too, he admitted. He knew as soon as the words left his lips that he’d regret them. He knew that...yet he couldn’t help spewing them out toward Jon. 

Jon had lied to him about his dad, however, and that hurt. Deep, gut-wrenching hurt. The only thing that hurt worse was the knowledge of _what_ he’d lied to him about. 

His father. His father had cancer...and was dying.

Which brought him to the letter laying on the floor where it had fallen. He reached out to it and slowly slid it across the carpet with his index finger, wanting to read it but somehow knowing that it would bring even more pain.

He should be celebrating the end of a successful first tour, having Jon in his arms and hanging with his band but instead he was sitting on the floor in a hotel room on the other side of the country with tears and snot running down his face, a throbbing jaw and heartbreak that he can’t see the end to.

Richie picked the envelope and ran his fingers over his father’s shaky handwriting.

“Fuck, dad…,” he whispered and carefully slid his own shaky finger beneath the seal to pry it open. His first instinct was to tear it into a million tiny pieces and never read it but he knew it may be the last missive he’d ever get from his father. He wiped his face with his sleeve and shook the pages from within their cover and unfolded them.

_Richard_

_If you’re reading this then my time must be almost up._

_I know you’ll be scared, hurt and angry with the way I’ve chosen to handle this, but please do not blame anyone other than me. I, and I alone, chose this course of action. It’s okay to be scared too, because being scared means that you’re about to do something truly brave. _

_I was scared. I’m not anymore. I’m at peace with it all._

_When your mother was expecting you, we shared our hopes and dreams for you and you’ve fulfilled each and every one of them. Happiness, love, laughter. Simple._

_It feels like only yesterday when you were placed in your mother’s arms, all pink and brand new. I still remember the feel of your hair on the top of your head and the way you curled your long fingers around my calloused one._

_Then before I knew it, you’d grown into your own man. One that knew exactly what he wanted in his life and went after it by any means. _

_Even if those means meant living and working on the dangerous streets. _

_Which brings me to this._

_I was so very wrong and selfish to cast you from your home. We wanted to see the family name carried on, instead of seeing what you wanted from your life. It was OUR dream that shattered that fateful day, and our penance for our selfishness was not to have you in our lives for five years. _

_Unfortunately, you ended up paying the price too._

_Your mother and I will be forever grateful to Jon for having the same fortitude to confront us that day and make us see our error._

_He is a fine young man and we are so happy you’ve committed to each other. We can see how much you love each other, but best of all, we now have two sons. I’m just sorry I won’t be there should you be able to marry each other one day._

_Now you are off travelling through the country, making your mark on the world, son. I’m so proud of you for following your dreams. You’ve shown yourself to be a man of strength, courage and commitment._

_I have not been able to carry you in my arms for a long time, but I carry you in my heart always. You’ve made me a very proud father, especially when I’ve been able to say ‘that’s my son’._

_Never feel as though you are alone as I will always walk beside you, in the good times and the bad. Remember to believe in yourself and that you will only fail if you give up trying. Never give up trying. Learn from every mistake. Remember that I will love you always. Be the man I know you can be._

_Grief will be hard but it too shall pass. It may take weeks, months or years, but you will come out the other side, in your own time. Face it head on, with your head tall and your heart strong. Lean on those around you, especially Jon. He loves you so don’t shut him out. Remember it’s okay not to be okay._

_I’m exhausted, Richard. Exhausted from fighting the fight of my life and trying to stay strong for everyone; your mother, you, the rest of the family. It will soon be time to rest._

_I have lived a full life, each year a chapter of a book. That book will be missing a few chapters, for which I will regret forever more, but now it is time to close the cover._

_As much as I want to see you one last time, I also want to spare you that pain._

_Be a good boy and look after your mother._

_I love you always_

_Dad xox_

Richie clutched the pages to his chest as he wept. Anguished howls ripped through him until he had nothing left. He sat wasted and broken from his grief for what seemed like hours. His bones ached but his heart ached more.

One thing that spurred him to move; his father had said to face his grief head-on, so he folded the pages back and slipped them into the envelope, folding it carefully in two before palming it into his back pocket. 

He pulled himself into a standing position and stumbled to the bathroom to wash his face. He didn’t bother towelling off as he grabbed his wallet and left the room, letting the water disguise any further tears. 

Not a single thought went to Jon as he walked blindly down the driveway and kept walking into the night with no destination in mind. He just knew he needed to move lest his dark thoughts completely overwhelm him and drag him under. He didn’t know how long he walked for but was surprised when he looked up. He’d ended up back at the bar they’d played that night.

He ordered a double and sat morosely at the end of the bar, oblivious to all those around him, letting his hair hang down around his face.

“Where’s Jonny?”

Richie swung his head in surprise, toward the familiar voice. He looked up at Nikki, propped against the bar beside him, and shrugged. 

“Lovers quarrel?” Nikki asked, touching Richie’s already bruised face as he drew a stool beneath him and sat beside him.

“Kinda,” he shrugged, throwing back the last of his drink and ordered another.

“So you’re drowning your sorrows,” Nikki commented, “How did you get here, babe?”

“Walked.” He didn’t feel like explaining himself, not tonight.

“But you’re staying at-.”

“Yeah...I walked all that way,” Richie cut him off. “Nik...I’m sorry, but I just want to forget for a bit, okay?”

Nikki growled, “Do I need to go have words with him?”

Richie shook his head and almost sank his fresh drink in one go as Nikki sat regarding him.

“Fuck, babe, slow down and savour it a little,” Nikki commented.

“Not tonight, Nikki,” Richie said and was about to raise his glass to his lips again.

Nikki grabbed the glass in one and Richie’s hand in the other, “Come with me, babe. I have something that may help.”

He let Nikki slide his fingers between his and led the way through the crowd as he kissed the cheeks of beautiful women and nodded to other acquaintances. He only released Richie’s hand to unlock the door to the back of house area and ushered Richie through, closing it behind them both.

“Where are we going, Nik?” Richie asked as they walked down a corridor.

Stopping at the Manager’s door, Nikki keyed in a code and the door swung open. “Welcome to my office, babe,” he said, sweeping his arm through the door for Richie to enter.

“Your office?!” Richie said as he looked around the opulently upholstered room done in rich jewelled tones of deep reds, blues and greens with dark, oriental furniture. Richie’s own office at _Rosie’s_ was nowhere near as luxurious as this.

Nikki chuckled and closed the door behind him, flicking the lock him, “Make yourself at home, babe.”

“What the hell, Nik?” Richie asked as he looked around, falling into an overstuffed butter-soft leather sofa with a low glass-topped coffee table in front of it. On the opposite wall was a bank of security monitors and a large safe stood in the corner behind the black-lacquered desk.

Nikki placed Richie’s drink on the coffee table with a wink and a smirk and crossed to the safe, making swift work of the combination. From within, he removed an ornate decorative bowl.

“Seems we’re both in the same business these days, huh?” Nikki cocked his eyebrow at Richie as he sat and placed the bowl on the coffee table. It was filled with white powder, a razor and a small silver straw.

“I’m not into _that_ business though,” Richie said pointing to the bowl, “What’s going on, Nikki?” He watched Nikki dole out some of the course powder onto the tabletop and proceed to chop it with the razor.

“I never did tell you why I came back at that time, did I?” Nikki said, diligently cutting the coke into the finest of powder.

“Something about a guy...Tommy, wasn’t it?” Richie had to think hard as the alcohol had placed a buffer of cotton wool around his brain.

“Yeah, Tommy,” Nikki smiled as he cut lines of white powder, “He had just told me that his family was in the hospitality business and he wasn’t just another street rat like you and I were.”

Nikki bent over the table, held the straw to his nose and inhaled a line then repeated it with the other nostril. “He’d also just bought this place...for me. No strings.” He fell back against the cushions with a satisfied sigh and closed his eyes, holding the straw out to his guest. “I needed to decide what I wanted in my life.”

Richie whistled as he looked around. “So where is he now?” he asked, taking the straw and snorting the lines quickly.

Within seconds he felt the chemical hit his brain and the euphoria infuse his body. For the first time since talking to his parents, nothing hurt. The ache in his heart, though beating rapidly, had receded a little, the cramps in his gut had released their hold.

“Fuck...that’s top quality, Nik,” Richie said, rubbing his finger through the residual powder and swiping it over his gums, feeling the tingle straight away. He reached for his drink and swallowed the now warm liquid. He didn’t want to feel anything, think of anything, until he woke up out of this nightmare.

“Right?! Told ya I’d take care of you, babe,” Nikki smiled one of his slow, sexy half-smiles as he scooped out some more, chipping away at it. “Oh, Tommy’s around. He’s probably making the rounds of the bars they own or waiting for me at home. I’m not letting that one get away as I did with you.”

“So...back up a little here,” Richie said, his mind suddenly clear, “if you run this place, then you would have known I was playing last night.”

Nikki grinned and snorted another line, “Fuck, babe, I leapt on the chance to book you as soon as your agent shopped you around. So...I came and said hello last night. Would have done the same tonight but I saw you with Jonny so I watched you from up here.” He pointed to the surveillance monitors.

“You didn’t mention he was coming out last night, so I’m guessing it was a surprise from Loverboy?”

Richie grabbed the straw and snorted more lines in quick succession, wincing at the pain in his sinuses from the powder and fell back against Nikki’s shoulder. He slumped down further as the drug took hold and ended up with his head in Nikki’s lap. 

He closed his eyes as Nikki’s fingers sifted through his hair, gently scraping his nails against his scalp, soothing him as he used to when they dated. When he opened his eyes he saw his dark-haired beauty gazing down at him with soft, sea-glass green eyes and a smile.

Richie reached up to Nikki’s face to caress his cheek, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone before slipping around to cup the back of Nikki’s head, pulling him down as he arched up. Their lips met as they had last night, softly at first, until Nikki’s tongue breached his lips, sending flames of lust licking along his veins. 

Richie shifted to his knees before straddling Nikki’s lap, sinking both hands into his dark hair and yanking his head back and deepening the kiss, letting his body take control for a while rather than his brain because there is no way his brain would be agreeing to let this happen.

Nikki pushed Richie’s jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor at his feet before his t-shirt joined it, then scraped his nails down Richie’s bare skin.

Richie moaned as his mouth and tongue moved over Nikki’s, chasing the darkness of nicotine and alcohol over it. His hands went to the buttons on Nikki’s shirt, slipping them through the holes with ease, feeling Nikki’s stomach contract and his hips bucked slightly when his knuckles brushed over the warm skin there.

Nikki broke the kiss and licked a broad stripe up Richie’s throat releasing a groan from him as his mouth fell open. The hot mouth moved lower as Richie arched into the sensation, bracing his hands on Nikki’s knees as Nikki fumbled at Richie’s jean buttons and set his cock free.

Nikki shifted lower in the overstuffed seat cushions and quickly flicked his own pants open. “Fuck, babe!” he growled, yanking Richie closer so that he could grip both dicks with his hand and squeezed tightly as he worked them both slowly but surely, spreading their slippery fluids in the process. 

He was lost in the euphoria of coke, alcohol, the mouth beneath his and the hand around his cock that knew what he needed.

“Jonny....,” Richie breathed, his head hung back over his shoulder, eyes closed, lost in his grief and Jack addled brain. Lust had taken over not only common sense but awareness of where he was and who he was with also.

Then as suddenly as a switch being flicked, Nikki snarled and let go, collapsing back against the couch with a huff of breath as their over sensitised cocks danced between them. 

Richie whined a little in protest and slowly opened his eyes then let out a surprised gasp, “Oh fuck...Nikki...I’m- I'm so sorry,” he said as Nikki scrubbed his hands over his face. 

“Fuck...perfect, just fucking perfect. I accuse Jon of cheating on me, yet I go and do exactly that,” he said more to himself as he rose slowly off Nikki’s lap and turned away to tuck himself painfully back into his pants. He didn’t feel the envelope fall from his back pocket. “Nikki...I’m sorry, baby, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” Nikki offered him a small smile, “I enjoyed having you in my arms again but I’ll survive a case of blue-balls until I see Tommy later.” He sat unmoved, shirt and pants still undone, erection still prominent, watching Richie closely, “You wanna talk about what’s goin’ on? Oh...you dropped something, too, by the way.”

Richie looked down at his feet at his father’s letter. He picked it up and stared at it for a long time, oblivious to Nikki watching him, as a shuddering sigh escaped him. 

“Babe?” Nikki said as he stood, taking a step to Richie, “Are you okay?” 

Fat tears dropped onto the paper as Richie shook his head and Nikki enfolded him into his arms, holding him tightly as Richie’s cries shook both men as sadness engulfed him once more.

**

**Nikki**

“Room 12 please,” Nikki said into the receiver as Richie slept on the couch. He checked his watch. 3:55 am. Too early by conventional standards for a phone call. He wondered idly if Jon was sleeping peacefully or frantic with worry.

To say he’d been disappointed to have Richie call out Jon’s name when they were about to fuck was an understatement, but knowing what he did now, it was forgivable.

Richie had cried in his arms until he was dry, only then managing to fill Nikki in on his father.

He didn’t quite get the whole idea of being affected by a parent’s death considering he never really knew his, and Richie’s had kicked him out for being bi and not conforming to their standards, but that was him, not Richie.

He did, however, understand the amount of hurt the letter would have caused after being allowed to read it. It was both a fucking selfish thing to do but also selfless.

“Hello?!” Frantic, Nikki thought. Loverboy sounds as bad as what Richie does.

“Jon? It’s Nikki,” he said. “You need to get your ass back to the bar, babe.”

“Nikki?! Wait...why?”

“I have something that belongs to you,” Nikki said looking over at the passed out Richie, “Or do I need to come and kick your ass for not looking after him?”

“Richie?! He’s there?” Jon exclaimed, “Thank god! Fuck...is he...I tried to help...he pushed me away and th-.”

“How about you shut the fuck up, babe,” Nikki growled, “and get your sweet ass down here before I keep him for myself.”

“Like fuck, you will,” Jon snapped back, “I’ll grab a cab now. Just...is he okay?”

“Drunk, high...in pain,” Nikki sighed, “but he’s a survivor. You should know that?”

Nikki could hear rustling over the line.

“He needs to get home though. Before you ask...he told me everything!”

“We’ve got tickets on an early flight. I was going to tell him, but-.”

“Just get your bags and find a fucking cab back here,” Nikki said, tired of Jon’s chit-chat, “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

Nikki hung up without waiting for an answer and immediately dialled Tommy’s phone, “Hey, lover...yeah something has come up. I’ll be late home,” he paused, listening to the whining complaints, “Daddy’s little boy doesn’t deserve an explanation until I get home!”

He smiled at the contrition he heard from the other man, “That’s much better, baby. Now I want to see you tucked up in bed when I get home. Then I’ll see about a reward. Goodnight, baby.” 

Tommy’s in for one hell of a reward, he thought, after blue-balling for the last hour or so.

He sat in the occasional chair close to Richie in case he woke and cut some more lines while he waited for Jon to turn up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Jon**

Jon woke as he slipped sideways from his position against the bus wheel, scraping his shoulder against the wheel hub. He groaned in pain as he stood and rubbed his shoulder the best he could, wondering how long he’d been out there.

He shuffled groggily back to the room and pushed the door open. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but an empty room wasn’t that. He called Richie’s name as he checked in the bathroom but no sign of him.

Jon stood in the middle of the small room and looked around. Richie’s bag and beat up old travel guitar was still there so Jon knew he’d be back, but his wallet and the spare key was missing. 

_Maybe he’s gone out for some fresh air,_ Jon thought to himself as he flopped down on the bed to stare up at the blank ceiling. Reaching for his pack of cigarettes, he lit one and watched the smoke curl upwards as he ran through all the options of how to get Richie back home quickly to his parents.

He knew who he needed to call so he sat up and reached for the phone, doing a quick calculation of the times before dialling the number.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Mom,” Jon said with a small smile, “It’s Jon...sorry it’s so early.”

“Jon! What a nice surprise, sweetheart,” Flo said with a yawn, “Don’t you dare apologise, I’ve been up for ages already.”

Jon smiled at Flo’s attempt to cover her yawn, “Fibber!” he chuckled.

“Jon… what’s going on? How’s Richie?” Flo asked, ever astute in picking up on ‘her boys’’ troubles.

“God, Mom...where do I start?” Jon moaned and proceeded to brief her on the whole situation. Even though he’d unburdened himself to Simon, he needed Flo’s maternal understanding and steadying influence.

“Oh sweetheart…what a predicament to put you in! If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know either. Poor Joan and Richie,” Flo sighed, “I’ll make sure to ring her later. Now...how else can we help?”

“Well...I have a favour to ask of you and Dad,” Jon said, “Is Eddie there?” He stood and started to pace in the small area that the cord would allow him to.

“He’s just in the kitchen. Let me go get him,” she said and Jon heard the phone being laid down. He didn’t have to wait long before it was picked up again, “Okay, Jon, we’re both here.”

“Hey, dad.”

“Jon...what do you need, son?” Eddie asked.

“Richie needs to get home as soon as possible...for his own mental state more than anything,” Jon said, “So...I was wondering if you’d advance me the money for two plane tickets and I’ll work off the costs when I get back to work.”

“Don’t be silly, Jonny,” Flo scoffed, “You’ll do no such thing, will he Eddie? We’ll make sure you both get home today, sweetheart.”

He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, his eyes burning as he willed himself not to break down in relief.

“Your mom’s right, just leave it to me, Jon,” Eddie said, “Just turn up at the airport and I’ll get you on the earliest flight that I can. You’ll both be home by tonight. Are you okay?”

“No...not really,” Jon replied with a hitch, “We had a fight. He blames me for keeping secrets and now I can’t find him. I’m...I’m scared, Dad. I’ve never gone through anything like this before...parents, people I care about, dying.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Flo sympathised, “Does David know any of this?”

“No...the shit hit the fan after he’d left for the airport,” he replied, “Let him have time with Amber and Colton. He deserves it.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, “Jon...you go look for Richie and get him to the airport, leave everything else to us. We’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jon sighed as he sat up, feeling somewhat relieved that he had his self-appointed parents behind him, “I love you guys...you’re not allowed to die just yet, okay?!”

“We love you too, Jon,” Eddie said, “and we’re not planning on going anywhere just yet. We’ll see you tonight. Hang up now, so I can ring the airline.”

Jon sat, long after Eddie hung up, with the receiver still in his hand just staring at the door, willing Richie to walk through it. With a shake of his head, he placed the receiver back in its cradle and started gathering their stuff to pack. He wanted to be ready to go as soon as Richie showed up. He was just zipping up Richie’s bag when the hotel phone rang, the jangling loud in the silence of the early morning hours.

“Hello?!” Jon answered cautiously, a nauseous feeling of dread that it was going to be more bad news at this hour of the night.

“Jon? It’s Nikki. You need to get your ass back to the bar, babe.”

“Nikki?! Wait…” Jon frowned, wondering how Nikki of all people knew where he was staying, let alone in Los Angeles, “Why?”

“I have something that belongs to you,” Nikki said, “Or do I need to come and kick your ass for not looking after him?”

_Wait! What?!_

“Richie?! He’s there?” Jon exclaimed in surprise before relief washed over him, “Thank god! Fuck...is he...I tried to help...he pushed me away and th-.”

“How about you shut the fuck up, babe,” Nikki growled, “and get your sweet ass down here before I keep him for myself.”

“Like fuck, you will! I’ll get a cab now,” Jon snapped back, “Just...is he okay?”

“Drunk, high...in pain,” Nikki sighed, “but he’s a survivor. You should know that?”

Jon quickly closed both bags and placed them at the foot of the bed with Richie’s guitar and grabbed his wallet and sunglasses.

“He needs to get home,” Nikki said.

Tell me something I don’t know, fucker! 

“Before you ask...he told me everything!”

“I’ve got tickets waiting for us. I wanted to tell him, but-.”

“Just get your bags and find a fucking cab back here,” Nikki cut him off, “I’ll take care of the rest.” 

Again, Jon was left with a mute receiver in his hand. _What is it with people hanging up on me lately?_

He did a quick sweep of the room for the last time before grabbing the luggage and guitar and left the room to go next door. He pounded on Simon’s door until the bleary-eyed manager opened it.

“Jon?!” Simon said, “Is everything okay?”

“No, not really,” he replied, “Richie’s gone AWOL and we’re flying out in a couple of hours.”

“Fuck! Do you know where he is?”

“Fortunately, yeah...at the bar...with Nikki. He just rang. Richie ended up back there somehow,” Jon said.

“Nikki?!” Simon exclaimed, “I didn’t know you two knew him?!”

“Long story,” Jon said, then continued, “Listen...I hate to leave you guys to come home on the bus but can you take Richie’s guitar with you? I’ve cleared out his room.”

“No sweat, Jon,” Simon nodded and took the case from Jon, “I hope everything works out. Tell Richie I’ll be in touch and not to worry about the record company, I’ll take care of them.”

“Thanks, man,” Jon hugged Simon briefly, “Thanks for taking care of him for me the last couple of months.” Simon waved him off and closed the door before Jon jogged down the driveway toward the street to hail a cab. 

It wasn’t long before he was cruising down the streets of LA with one thing on his mind; Richie. 

_Richie was with Nikki?! How the hell did that happen?_

Nikki had said that he was drunk and high. Richie hadn’t touched many hard drugs since they’d been together so he was concerned that he’d used them tonight.

The cab pulled up outside the bar and Jon handed over some cash to the driver, not bothering to check if it was the right amount, as he grabbed the two bags and headed in through the bar doors.

Jon stood in the entrance and tried to look through the smoky room for either Richie or Nikki, to no avail.

“Can I help you?” the barman asked. He didn’t look familiar to earlier tonight.

“Yeah… I’m looking for Nikki? Nikki Sixx?” Jon said.

“Mr Sixx is in his office. Give me a minute,” the barman said and picked up a phone, “There’s someone to see you, Sir.” The barman eyed Jon and nodded, “You got it.” He placed the phone back and left from behind the bar, “Follow me.”

Jon followed as the other pushed through the crowd and lead him to a nondescript door. Unlocking it and holding it open for Jon, he said, “Last door on the right,” and closed the door behind him, leaving Jon standing in the harsh fluorescent light.

Passing down the hallway, he stood in front of the only black door amongst all the other basic grey-blue ones, he knocked. 

Jon jumped when it was flung open by the wild-haired older man. He hadn’t changed much in the intervening years. His mane of jet-black hair was still standing at gravity-defying heights and his clothes were infinitely more extravagant than his street style Jon remembered Nikki for, his green eyes were blown out and bloodshot.

“‘Bout fucking time,” Nikki growled, fisting Jon’s shirt in his hand and hauled him inside his office, slamming the door behind him. Nikki took the bags from Jon and dumped them on the floor beside the door.

“I got here as soon as I could,” Jon replied and went straight to Richie’s side, kneeling on the soft oriental carpet, “How did he end up here?” He brushed the hair from Richie’s face gently, exposing the bruising on his jawline from when Jon had hit him. He castigated himself again for lashing out.

“Grief is its own pain but it also masks the pain of everything else,” Nikki said sagely. “He walked,” he said after Jon rolled his eyes at him.

Jon whistled softly in shock and turned back to Richie. He looked peaceful finally though the puffiness around his eyes and his red nose gave away the fact he’d been crying earlier.

“So where’s the manager?” Jon asked as he turned again to watch Nikki walk from the door to the occasional chair nearest the couch, “I’m surprised they’ve left all that coke out.”

“Owner, actually,” Nikki said as he sat back in the chair and held his arms wide, “You’re looking at him. As for the coke...want some?” Nikki held the straw out to Jon.

Jon knew he was gawping at Nikki but he couldn’t help himself. “You got Richie high, you fuck?”

“No, he got himself high,” he replied succinctly as he bent to cut some more lines, “He wanted to kill the pain and I had the means.”

“Don’t fret your pretty little head about it, Jonny. He was safe. You should know I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

“You, on the other hand ...” Nikki eyed Jon off as he pointed the straw at him.

“What choice did I have?” Jon spat back as loudly as he dared, “I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.”

“Woah, woah, woah... calm down, Jonny,” Nikki said, “He told me everything and he let me read his dad’s letter.”

“I understand. It was a shitty place to put you in, but right now you gotta focus on getting him through.” He threw the spoon, blade and straw into the bowl, leaving the lines on the table, and rose to place them back into the safe, spinning the combination wildly once the heavy door was closed. 

“Now, why don’t you wake sleeping beauty there while I go let the guys on the floor know that I’m heading out. I’ll drive you two to the airport.”

“You don’t have to do that, Nikki,” Jon said, eyeing Nikki off, “I’m not sure you’re capable of driving right now.”

“Listen, dollface, let me worry about that. You just worry about him,” Nikki said with a lift of his chin in Richie’s direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” With that, he left the room, the door snicking quietly behind him.

Jon turned his attention back to Richie. He bent to kiss him on the temple before whispering, “Rich...wake up, baby. Mookie...c’mon, wake up.” He recognised the clues that Richie was fighting consciousness so he gently shook him, “C’mon, baby, you gotta get up now.” 

A red-rimmed eye cracked open. Jon could see the confusion behind the bleariness as Richie’s mind fought through the fog.

“Jonny?!”

Jon frowned at the hoarseness of Richie’s voice. He nodded, “Yeah, Mookie. Nikki called me. You need to wake up now, baby.”

“Why?! Is the nightmare over?” Richie closed his eyes again.

“No, baby,” Jon answered softly as he stroked his hair.

“Then I don’t wanna wake up,” he mumbled.

Jon rested his head against Richie’s arm, “Mookie...you can’t hide from it. I need you to get up.” He only got a grunt in response.

Jon expelled a frustrated breath and straightened up a little, “Richie! Get up...now!” he said gruffly. 

“Fuck off, Jonny,” Richie said. 

“I’m taking you home so get up and get your fucking shit together, baby.” Jon rose to his feet as his voice got harsher.

“You don’t get it, do you, Jonny?” Richie said, shifting on the couch, “Yet again, they’ve rejected me. So...no, I’m not going home.” 

He threw his forearm across his eyes to block out the light, his shirt falling open to reveal a barrage of love bites; Jon recalled giving them all. Except the freshly blooming one to the side of Richie’s right nipple.

Jon bristled, launching himself to straddle Richie’s prone body and yanked his arm away so he could look Richie in the eye when he said, “What did you and Nikki do? Huh?! Did you fall back into your old ways, Rich?! How much did he pay you, huh?” Jon pushed off Richie with a violent shove when he saw the guilt wash over his fiancé’s face. 

“Jonny...I...it-,” Richie said groggily as he sat up slowly, buttoning his shirt.

“Answer me!” Jon yelled, spinning on his heels to face Richie. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“We kissed! Okay?!” Richie offered, “We were drunk, high...we...we frotted. Things were getting heavy until I said your name. Nothing happened, Jonny. You gotta believe me, babe.”

“And you had the gall to accuse me of cheating!” Jon snarled.

“Whatever you’re gonna throw at me, say to me,” Richie said standing to face off with Jon, “trust me, babe, I said it to myself a thousand times over as soon as I realised what I was doing. Goddamn it! This is all so fucked up.” 

Richie flopped back onto the couch and spied the coke. He licked a finger and, reaching over to the coffee table, swiped up a line of coke to rub over his gums and tongue.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t leave your lying ass out here and go home to our families, Rich?”

“Because he’s telling the truth,” Nikki said from the doorway, causing them both to turn toward the door. “Listen, Jon,” Nikki continued as he walked over to his desk for his keys before turning back to them, “I let the situation get out of control. I should have stopped him when I realised he was outta his head.” 

He strolled over to stand in front of Jon and pinned him with a look and a small smile but spoke to Richie, “Rich, babe, go down the hall and freshen up...I want to speak to Loverboy here for a moment.”

“Uh, yeah...okay,” Richie replied hesitantly and left the room, leaving Jon and Nikki alone facing off against each other.

“Pick your battles carefully, Jonny,” Nikki said once Richie had left, “He didn’t want me.”

Jon cocked his head at the older man, raising his eyebrows in a silent challenge.

“Okay, he thought he did at the time but he just needed someone to take his pain away for a short while. I won’t deny that he felt right, back in my arms, but Richie and I...our time has passed.” Nikki smiled a little sadly, wistfully. 

“He’s back there with you, and I’m here...with Tommy,” he said, pinning Jon with a meaningful look.

“My little street-rat likes to think he’s in control and can take on the world but he’s just a scared little boy deep down inside. He’s always needed to feel safe and taken care of ever since I’ve known him...that’s why he took on that protector role when he found you.”

“Now, though,” Nikki reached for Jon’s left hand and rubbed his thumb over the engagement ring Jon wore, “he needs you! More than ever. He doesn’t know it, nor would he acknowledge it, but he needs you to take control until all this shitstorm is over.”

“If you love him the way I think you do,” Nikki held Jon’s eyes as he spoke, “then forget what happened here tonight and take him home to be with his Dad, even if it’s for a few short minutes. I’ll get him to the airport...after that, it’s all on you, babe.”

“Nikki...I don’t know what to-,” Jon started to say before being cut off. He was conflicted about his reaction to Nikki’s words. He wanted to rail at him, beat him to a bloody pulp, for daring to seduce Richie but then he threw him for a loop by showing his soft underbelly where Richie was concerned.

“Don’t. You don’t need to say anything,” Nikki said with a wry smile, “This is the second time I’ve handed him over to you. Don’t make me regret all this mushy shit.”

Nikki shook himself as though shaking off water after being caught in a shower of rain or probably more accurately, settling a new cloak of indifference over his shoulders. 

“Now get your bags and let’s get the fuck outta here. If we leave now we’ll skip all the traffic.” Nikki opened the door and ushered Jon out of his office as Richie was leaving the bathroom.

“What’s happening?” Richie asked as Jon and Nikki strode toward him.

“It’s time for my little street-rat to leave, babe,” Nikki said stopping in front of him and caressing the back of his fingers down Richie’s stubbled cheek, “You need to go see your father, Richie, so he can pass peacefully.” Nikki kissed his cheek and hugged him fiercely.

“Let me worry about everything, Mookie,” Jon said, choosing to ignore how familiar Nikki was with Richie right now, “I’m with you every step of the way, baby. I love you-.”

“Whatever happens, right?” Richie looked at him and Jon, seeing the underlying fear in Richie’s eyes, knew that he’d heard him last night. 

Jon sighed and held out his hand for Richie and nodded, “Yeah...whatever happens.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Richie**

Nikki had made good time in getting them to the airport, as he got out from behind the wheel and perched himself against the car, releasing the trunk catch beforehand.

Richie stood in front of Nikki, both men taking their final looks at each other.

“Well…,” he said, “I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for the ride, Nikki.”

“Take care, babe,” Nikki said to Richie after enveloping him in a long hug goodbye, “You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you. You’re my little street-rat, after all.”

“Thanks, Nik,” Richie said softly, burying his nose in amongst all the dark hair, “I’m sorry about earlier, too.” 

Nikki was his first real love and he would always hold a special place in his heart too, but Jon was his forever love. _Unless I’ve royally screwed that up tonight_, he thought.

“My loss, Tommy’s gain,” he replied with a chuckle and kissed his cheek. 

Richie tapped Nikki on the chest and went to get the bags out of the car as Nikki and Jon said their goodbyes.

“I guess I need to thank you,” Jon shrugged, “for, you know, looking out for Richie and...calling me, when you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t wanna have to chase you down again, ya hear me? You look after him!”

Jon nodded, “I will.” He held out his hand to shake Nikki’s.

Nikki looked down at Jon’s hand and pushed off the car, wrapping him into a hug instead, “Call me when...well, you know….” With a final clap on the back, Nikki released Jon and stepped back around the car to the driver’s seat without looking back. With the roar of the engine, he took off.

It could have been the lack of traffic at that time of the morning or Nikki’s driving but they found out after collecting their tickets and checking their bags, that they had a good hour or more to wait.

“Coffee...I need coffee,” Jon groaned, “Sleep seems such a long time ago.”

“Let’s go find you some then,” Richie said with a small smile. 

He wanted to talk to Jon before he crashed, which was going to be as soon as they were in the air by the way Jon was acting. He, himself, should be dead on his feet. He’d slept off some of the coke and booze; that small amount of sleep was keeping him going at the moment. That, and the apprehension of what he was going to face when he got home.

They found a coffee shop near their departure gate and Richie directed Jon into finding a seat while he ordered coffees and some food at the counter, finding him tucked away in a booth at the back when he was done.

“I’ve ordered some bacon and eggs,” Richie said as he sat down beside Jon, “to go with our coffee.”

“Hmm thanks, Mookie,” Jon sighed as his head rested on his hand. “How are you still upright?”

“Ha...hanging on by the fingernails, baby,” he replied as he mirrored Jon’s relaxed pose, legs brushing, as they waited for their order, “I’m working on a different body clock from the road at the moment. The coke’s still buzzing through me and a little…anxiety or whatever, but I’ll probably crash when we’re in the air. Just like you will.”

Jon grunted softly. “Poor choice of words. Crash and in the air should never go together. Especially when we have to be in a flying tin can for hours.”

“True. I didn’t think of that,” he nodded.

“But you gotta stay awake for just a little while longer for me, Cowboy,” Richie continued, “I wanna talk-.”

“Here you go. Two large coffees and two eggs and bacon,” the waitress interrupted, way too cheerily for that time of the morning. She made sure to reach right across the table to place the plates and cups on the table, flashing her ample bosom at her customers. 

“Just promise to call me over if you want anything else, handsome.” 

She gave them a lipstick-covered toothy smile before she left, throwing a wink over her shoulder as she sashayed away. 

Richie chuckled as he watched Jon almost pounce on his coffee, making little happy noises as he sipped at the hot brew. “Sweet, sweet coffee,” he sighed before saying, “Coffee, food, talk...in that order.”

“Sure,” Richie agreed. He dug into his eggs and bacon with gusto, suddenly hungry, as Jon did the same.

It didn’t take either of them long to polish off the food, pushing their plates away with a groan of satisfaction.

Jon propped himself up in the corner of the booth as Richie nursed the remainder of his coffee, staring off into space. He was lost in his thoughts of his parents and why they would want to keep this from him. He vaguely remembered telling Jon when he woke earlier that he felt like he’d been rejected again by them and that seemed to be the underlying feeling he was having now. He just couldn’t fathom why. 

Home. He just wanted to get back there now and see his father...if it wasn’t too late.

“Tell me...so I’m not blindsided again,” Richie said quietly, still staring off into the distance. He heard Jon sigh and shift a little.

The waitress chose that moment to interrupt to top up their coffees and asked, “Anything else, handsome?”

Richie didn’t know which of them she was referring to but he shook his head in the negative and gave her a small smile. When Jon reached out to link his fingers with Richie’s that were resting on the tabletop, she eyed them off then turned on her heels with a huff.

“What was that about?” Richie said with a raised eyebrow in Jon’s direction.

“She was getting way too friendly for my liking,” Jon said with a small shrug. 

“Marking your territory?” Richie grinned. Something loosened a little in his chest.

“Yep! Unashamedly, too,” he replied as he smoothed his free hand over Richie’s hair and kissed the point of his shoulder. 

He shifted back into the corner and gave Richie’s shirt a little tug, “C’mere, babe.” He patted the spot between his splayed legs, one propped up along the bench seat between them. 

Richie slid across the vinyl seat to sit between Jon’s legs but before settling back against him, he searched Jon’s face and murmured, “Jonny….” 

He’d been concerned when Jon hadn’t shown any affection other than to hold his hand as they walked through the airport, but his fears were allayed when Jon turned Richie’s face to his and kissed him deeply, thoroughly, and any doubts he had, melted away as their lips parted slowly.

“I wish I could take away the pain, Mookie,” Jon murmured as he held Richie’s eyes.

“I know,” he said softly, “I’d do the same. I’ve been thinking all night. Fuck, my mind hasn’t stopped thinking but...I’m sorry I took it out on you. I know you were trying to do the right thing by all of us.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” Jon said, “Except…” He pulled Richie back against him, his hand resting on Richie’s belly.

“Except what?”

Jon inhaled and turned his head a little, “Except for the sleeping around comment.”

Richie felt his stomach drop knowing that he’d done exactly what he’d accused Jon of doing...well, almost. If his subconscious hadn’t kicked in when it did, he and Nikki would have surely fucked each other into oblivion as they used to.

“Jonny...I’m...I’m so sorry, baby,” Richie said remorsefully.

“It hurt, Rich, I ain’t gonna deny that,” Jon said sadly, “then to find out that you and Nikki-”

“Nothing happened! I swear, baby,” he protested as he squirmed in Jon’s embrace to look at him, “It was a coked-out handjob, at best, without either of us coming. I called out for you and...and that was it. Nikki...I...we-.”

“Shhhh,” Jon silenced him with a finger over his mouth, “We both get one get of jail free card this weekend, huh? Whatever happens, remember?”

_God? Are you listening?_ he thought. 

He hadn’t prayed in a long time but he had a feeling he was about to start doing a lot of it over the next short while. 

_If Dad has made his peace with you, then I forgive him too. I kinda understand why he’s doing it this way but it still fucking hurts. Just let him live long enough for me to tell him I love him and that I forgive him. Please!? Thank you for putting this man in my life also. I don’t know what I would do without him. He is my rock, my heart and my home. Please don’t take him from me too soon. Let us grow old together; old and grey, just a little fat maybe._

Richie reached for Jon’s left hand and fiddled with the ring he’d put on only a short few years ago. He drew it up and kissed it before saying, “This was the best decision I’ve ever made. Not one day goes by that I regret making you mine.”

Jon tightened his arms around him and kissed the side of his head before resting his head there.

“Which is why I need you to tell me everything you know,” Richie said. 

Jon inhaled deeply behind him before explaining everything, speaking softly into his ear as Jon cradled him like an infant. It was a comforting way to be told of the details; being wrapped in your soulmate’s arms, two beings sharing the one pain. Richie hadn’t even realised he had started weeping again until Jon turned his head to kiss the tear from his cheek.

“So, as you can see,” Jon said as he wrapped up, “I had no idea of what to do. I knew it was going to hurt you doing it this way but they were so insistent. Your mom made me promise to bring you back whole...I nearly fucked that one up, though.”

Jon sighed. “I still have that underlying fear of taking the wrong step where parents are concerned. ‘Dont fuck it up or I’ll fuck you up’ kinda thing, you know? Coz that’s what used to happen.”

Richie snorted in amusement, “Yeah, coz my mom is so formidable.”

“She’s scary, man. She had no problems telling me what-for when I questioned their reasons,” Jon chuckled. Then a few moments later, more seriously, “You okay now, Mookie? I’ve told you everything that I know...anything else will have to come from them.”

“Hmm, I guess,” he said, “I just want to get home now. How much longer till the fucking flight leaves?”

“Not lo-,” Jon started to say when the tannoy called for passengers for their flight.

“They must have heard you...c’mon, let’s go,” Jon said, patting Richie’s belly.

Richie slid from the booth first, stretching hard as Jon stood from the end of the seat. Richie lowered his arms down around Jon and held him close, “Thanks, baby. I feel a little more...prepared, I guess. There’s just one more thing I wanna ask?”

“Sure, g’head,” Jon said.

Richie looked around the cafe, leaned forward and stage-whispered, “Wanna join the Mile High Club later?”

“Hmm I like the sound of that, Mookie,” Jon smiled, “but we both need sleep first.”

“Who needs sleep,” he said and took Jon’s hand, leading them out of the cafe after leaving a tip for their waitress, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

**

They found themselves at the very back of the aircraft and as soon as the seatbelt sign flashed off, they got themselves as comfortable as they could, hands entwined and Jon’s head on his shoulder as the drone of the engines lulled them both into sleep quickly.

He woke a few hours later or more like he reached a level of consciousness, rather than being fully awake, to an insistent pulsing through his body. As his brain fumbled around to ground itself, another sensation of pressure and warmth around his groin made itself known. It was a familiar feeling and a welcome one. He groaned as the ripples of pleasure started.

“Shhh,” he felt Jon’s breath against his cheek as the last of the sleepy fog-web dissipated from his head.

Richie cracked an eye open to see that someone had placed an airline blanket over them and when he looked down to his lap he could see that it was gently moving. He shifted a little toward the pleasure and angling his back to the aisle.

“Don’t move anymore,” Jon said as he brushed his thumb over the sensitive head.

He had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from crying out as Jon picked up the pace a little. He glanced between the seats in front of them; the passengers all had headphones on watching the in-flight movie.

“Fuck,” he breathed, he couldn’t help himself.

“No Mile High today,” Jon breathed, “so this will have to be the next best thing. Can you stay quiet, Mookie?”

He nodded as he held Jon’s gaze as he twisted and stroked him in exactly the ways he liked it. 

The ripples through his body started focusing in on their intensity toward his release. He concentrated on breathing through his nose as his eyes became wild and unfocused, his fingers curling painfully into his palm leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin.

With his free hand, Jon sifted his fingers through Richie’s hair and drew their heads closer and whispered, “I wish I could take you in my mouth, feel you down my throat and swallow everything you can give me. I can feel how close you are, Mookie. You’re just waiting for me to say the word, right?”

“Jonny…,” he mewled softly and before he knew if Jon had uttered a quiet “Yes” and Richie felt those ripples explode through him as Jon claimed his mouth, swallowing any noise Richie made in a deep kiss as he emptied himself over Jon’s fingers, his stomach clenching with every pulse.

Jon continued kissing him as his breathing regulated into a somewhat-normal pattern and when the tingles finally subsided enough for him to feel his extremities again, he pulled back from the kiss with a sigh.

“Wow,” he said softly, still conscious of drawing attention to them, “What brought that on?” He fumbled himself back into his pants and buttoned the fly closed as Jon used the blanket to wipe the majority of come from his hand. 

“Because I wanted to. I wanted to give you something happy to remember about your trip home...before reality hits,” he said with a shrug. He balled the blanket up and shoved it under the seat with a waggle of eyebrows and a smirk. “That’ll be a nice surprise for the cleanup crew later. Just let me go clean up.” 

He stood, adjusted himself and pecked Richie on the lips quickly before he moved over his legs to the aisle, deliberately displaying his confined hard-on when he paused as he straddled Richie’s lap. Richie unashamedly took in the sight in front of him as he ran his hand up the back of Jon’s leg. 

He bent to whisper in Richie’s ear, “Besides...I woke up horny as fuck and needed to feel your cock in my hand.” With a wink, he took off toward the rear bathroom leaving Richie feeling a bone-deep lassitudinous which took the edge off his anxiety. His eyes drifted closed again but only because he was too depleted to hold them open any longer.

A short while later he checked his watch and saw that they only had about an hour left of the flight. He was resetting his watch back to east coast time when Jon came back, flushed in the face and grinning.

“Feel better, Cowboy?” Richie asked as Jon scooted past him to his seat.

“Hmm, much,” he replied with a sigh, “No better way to destress, don’tcha think?”

“Under normal circumstances, I’d say yes,” Richie said and reached for Jon’s hand as the pilot announced their approach. He inhaled deeply as reality set in again.

“Hey…,” Jon said, “Together, remember. Whatever happens.”

Richie gave Jon a small smile and kissed the palm of his hand, noting the slight aroma of Jon’s musk beneath the airline-issued hand soap. They fell into an easy silence as they waited out the remainder of the flight, hand in hand.

The landing went smoothly and after a lengthy disembarkment, they both breathed a sigh of relief when the gangway opened out onto the concourse, writhing with a sea of humanity.

“Where’s the car, Jonny?” he asked, eager to get out of the crowd.

“I left it at your parents’ place,” Jon replied, “So we’ll have to grab a cab or something to get back there.”

Richie had been checking out the board to see which carousel to collect their luggage from when Jon nudged him, pointing through the crowd. Eddie and Flo were walking toward them; Flo, with her arms flung wide upon seeing ‘her’ boys. She embraced Jon first.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jon asked as he submitted to Flo’s once-over.

“Your mom insisted we come to pick you up,” Eddie said, shaking his hand once Jon had been released from Flo’s grasp, “We knew Richie would want to get to Adam as soon as possible.”

Richie watched them silently, thinking he’d never have this kind of greeting from both his parents ever again. The burn of tears started behind his eyes just as Flo turned her whole attention to him. He swallowed heavily as she held her arms open to him and wrapped him in the kind of hug that only a mother seemed to be able to give.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she said softly.

He nodded, unable to speak, as a shuddering breath shook him. He held on tightly, drawing on her comfort.

“You’re part of our family too, sweetheart,” Flo said, capturing his face in her hands, “We’ll be here for you and your mom. Don’t even hesitate to ask for help, do you understand?”

“Thanks, Flo,” he replied huskily and kissed her cheek.

“Let’s get you home then,” she smiled and released her hold.

Eddie clapped him on the back as Jon took his hand. He felt surrounded in goodness and love and the pain receded, just a little, as they headed to get the luggage and head back to Woodbridge.


	10. Chapter 10

**Jon**

Eddie pulled slowly up to the curb outside the Sambora house just as he had done a few days previously. The weather was cold and grey and there was a pall of light drizzle of rain, just as it had been the night he’d left here to go to LA. It felt like a lifetime ago, however, with the amount of change that had happened in that span of time.

Eddie got out to retrieve the luggage as Flo turned to the back seat and said, “We won’t intrude. You both need to be with Adam and Joan right now. Richie, sweetheart, I’ve spoken with your mother and she knows to call us if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Flo,” Richie said, “for everything.” He leant forward and kissed her cheek before getting out of the car.

“Thanks, mom,” Jon said, “I don’t know what I’d do without you both. I don’t know what to do here...I’m at a loss.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Flo smiled fondly, “Just be there for them all, love them as you do and the heavens will take care of everything else. Now go… Richie needs you. Call us later, okay?”

“Will do,” Jon said, “Love you, Mom,” and exited the car. He gave Eddie a hug as they passed each other before moving to stand beside Richie and their bags. He was staring up at the house as the rain fell on him.

He slipped his hand into Richie’s, startling him out of his thoughts, as the Rashbaums pulled away down the street leaving them to stand silently in the rain.

“How am I going to do this, Jonny?” Richie asked quietly.

“Well, you won’t be alone. I’m right here...whatever happens,” Jon replied, “We’ll do this one step at a time.” 

Some movement from the front window caught his eye. He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it or not until the front door opened and Joan took a step outside.

“Go be with your family, baby. I’m right behind you,” Jon said and release Richie’s hand and within a moment the mother and son were together in a tearful embrace.

Jon collected their bags and followed them inside; he turned and closed the door only to be confronted by Joan as Richie stood at the base of the stairs. Waiting or hesitating, Jon wasn’t sure which.

“Thank you, Jon,” she said.

Jon took in her dishevelled appearance. She was normally so put-together with her hair coiffed and face made up every day. Now she looked tired and drawn. He thought Joan looked worse than what she had just a few days ago.

He gave her a small smile and nodded. “We’ll talk later. Take Richie up, I’ll be down here. Family should be together.”

“Sweet boy, are you not engaged to my son?” She gave Jon a stern look and he answered with a nod before she continued, “Then you’re just as much a part of our family as we are. Family should be together. Now...we’re wasting time down here.”

Richie held his hand out to Jon, “Mom’s right and I need you now, Jonny. More than ever.”

Jon shrugged out of his jacket, laying it across their bags. He kissed Joan’s temple as he moved past her to take Richie’s hand. “Whatever happens, Mookie,” he said. 

It seemed to have become their alternative or addendum to the unspoken ‘I love you’s’. “One step at a time, remember?” He gripped Richie’s hand tightly and followed him up the narrow stairs, Joan following them.

Richie paused at the threshold of his parents’ bedroom. Jon could feel Richie’s hand shaking in his. He gave Richie’s arm a reassuring rub with his free hand.

Joan stepped past them both and said, “There’s nothing to be scared of, sweetheart. He’s still your dad. Just remember that.” With that, she opened the door and walked to the side of the bed.

“One step, Mook,” Jon murmured and gently urged him inside. Jon stood beside him, letting him take in the scene of his mother straightening his father’s bedding. 

She looked up and smiled as she slipped her arm in behind Adam to raise him up. Struggling to get the pillow out from underneath him, gave Richie the impetus he needed to rush forward.

“Here, mom, let me help,” he said and sat on the edge of the bed to hold Adam upright. 

Jon could see the shock rush over Richie’s face at how frail and light Adam had become as he held him against his chest. He waited by the door, not wanting to disturb them but offering his presence as support.

As his father would have done to his son, Richie kissed the side of Adam’s head and soothed a hand over his back as Joan fluffed the pillows.

“Can he hear me?” Richie asked his mother as he laid Adam back onto the mound of pillows.

“I’m sure he can, sweetheart,” Joan said, “but his moments of being awake are becoming less and less.” She turned and checked on the oxygen bottle and drip bag hanging beside the bed then said, “It’s just a matter of keeping him comfortable now.”

Joan brushed her hand over Adam’s grey hair before walking around the bed to stand beside Richie. 

“I’m sure he knows you’re here, sweetheart. Talk to him like you normally would. I think he’s been holding on to see you again.” She kissed Richie’s temple and said, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Joan hugged Jon briefly and looked back at her family. Jon nodded in a silent agreement that he’d look out for them before she left the room, closing the door behind her. He wandered over to where Richie was and lowered himself down the wall closest to the bed so that he’d be close by if Richie needed him.

“Dad?” Richie said finally, “Can you hear me? I got here as soon as I could.”

“I almost didn’t make it, Dad,” Richie said softly as he held Adam’s hand, waiting for some sign of recognition, “I ran. I hurt Jonny and I ran like a toddler throwing a tantrum.” 

Jon looked up sharply at his name but Richie was focused on Adam so he stayed silent.

“Came close to fucking that relationship up too. I accused him of something then almost did that exact thing.” Richie looked over at him, holding his gaze and said, “Yet he found me and forgave me. I love him so much and don’t know what I would do without him.”

“He saved me from myself last night and got me here,” he said, “I’m ready now, to face this head on just like you said in your letter. I just need you to open your eyes for me, Dad.”

There was silence in the room apart from the hiss of the oxygen and Adam’s laboured breathing. Richie curled his long frame onto the bed beside his father and lay there watching for any sign of movement.

After what seemed like hours of dozing fitfully, Jon needed to move and he needed the bathroom. So he pulled himself from the floor and stretched his stiff muscles. 

His body was not liking the sitting on the plane for five hours and now sitting on the floor. He took a peek at Richie, who seemed to be asleep. He tenderly tucked some hair behind Richie’s ear before padding to the door.

“Where are you going?” Richie asked.

“Bathroom, Mookie,” Jon whispered, “Can I get you anything?”

“Yeah...coffee would be good.”

He nodded and left the room. After visiting the bathroom, Jon made his way downstairs to the kitchen. He found Joan at the table, her head on her folded arms, asleep. 

Gently shaking her awake, Jon said, “Why don’t you go lie down in Richie’s room? I got this for a while.”

“Maybe just a quick nap,” she agreed, “Thank you, Jon.” She rose wearily from the table and into Richie’s old bedroom just off the kitchen.

Before returning upstairs, he ducked out the backdoor for a quick cigarette, standing in the cold, light rain as the day descended into night. His mind was awhirl with the events over the past 24 hours as he stared vacantly at the grey sky.

He had to admit that Richie’s accusation still stung, amplified by the fact that he and Nikki had been fooling around. Richie was right though, he had forgiven him but it remained to be seen if he could forget. 

His stomach growled loudly reminding him that breakfast had been a few hours ago. He stubbed out his cigarette, blowing the smoke up to disappear against the grey sky before going back into the warmth of the kitchen. 

While he waited until the coffee to brew, Jon rummaged through the pantry and found a pack of choc-chip cookies. After pouring two steaming mugs, he put the corner of the cookie packet in his teeth and carried his bounty upstairs.

He toed open the door and saw that Richie had sat up again, turning at the sound of the door snicking closed. He smiled as Jon made his way over to him. Richie grabbed the cookies from Jon’s teeth and replaced them with a kiss.

“Thanks, baby,” Richie said, “I’m not sure which of you looks most delectable; you or the cookies.” Jon handed him the mug with a grin. “Where’s mom?”

“I found her asleep at the kitchen table,” Jon said after taking a sip of his coffee, “so I sent her to your old room for a nap.” Richie grunted as he drank. Jon ran his free hand over Richie’s back and asked, “How are you doing, Mookie?”

He sighed. “I just want him to wake up long enough that I can tell him that it’s okay,” Richie said, staring into the inky liquid in front of him, “that I forgive him and that...that I love him.”

“I know, baby,” he said, moving closer to Richie when he moved his arm around Jon’s waist. 

He placed his mug on the nightstand and picked up the cookies, splitting open the seal. He juggled the bag and held it out to Richie who shook his head. He snagged a couple and put the bag beside his coffee as he nibbled on them and he wasn’t really surprised when Richie gripped his wrist and took a bite of one. A comfortable silence came over the room until the doorbell rang downstairs.

“Want me to get that?” Jon asked as Richie moved to the window to look out.

“Nah, I’ll get it,” Richie said, “I’ll go check on mom too.”

Jon was left with Adam. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his hand as Richie had done and said, “Mr S...you listened to me once before so I’m hoping you’ll do it again. Please fight to come back for a short while. Just enough for Richie to say goodbye. I think...I think it will help him move on, you know...afterwards.”

A moment later an older man came through the bedroom door, followed by Richie and Joan. Jon stood from the bed and made way for the others.

“Jon, this is Dr Fredricks, our family doctor,” Joan said, still looking sleepy from her short nap, “Ralph, this is Jon, Richie’s fiance.”

“Ahh! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jon.” He shook Jon’s hand firmly, “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s just a shame it couldn’t have been in better circumstances.” 

He turned to Joan and asked, “Has there been any change, Joan?” He checked the IV lines piercing Adam’s hand and swapped over a bag that was hanging from above the bed.

“No change,” she replied.

“Is there any way that he can be woken up?” Richie asked.

Dr Fredricks glanced over at him and nodded, “I can lower the dosage of the pain meds a little which will raise his level of consciousness but it couldn’t be done for any length of time. You’re dad’s pain would be too great at this stage of progression.”

“Mom?” Richie looked over at her for her reaction. “Please? I just wanna talk to him and know that he heard me.”

Joan smiled at Richie, nodding, “I think your father would want that too.”

“Okay then,” the doctor said and started prepping the required dosages to leave. 

“When Adam’s due to have the meds topped up, use this smaller dose.” He held up the syringe to Joan, who had been taking care of administering them for the past few weeks. 

“It’s significantly lower so it’ll will allow you to speak with him for a short while but it won’t stave off the pain for long. Top it up with this one when he looks like he’s struggling. Let Adam be the one to tell you when he needs it.”

The doctor bade his goodbyes after leaving further instructions and the schedule of one of his nurses that would be calling in to do regular checks.

“How have you been doing all of this by yourself, mom?” Richie asked as they sat at the kitchen table, eating a simple meal. He reached for her hand and continued, “I just wish you’d just told me.”

“I haven’t been completely alone, sweetheart,” she said, “Your aunts and uncle have helped. And before you can scold me again about not telling you, that was the way your father wanted it! There was no negotiating with him on that one.”

“I know,” Richie sighed, “I’m here now. You don’t have to do it all now. At least you had the family to help. Is Stella still in town?”

Joan hummed and nodded, “She’s staying with Loretta until...well….”

Jon ate slowly as he listened to them talk. He was getting sleepy. The rest he got on the plane was hours ago and not very satisfying. He leant his head on his hand and started to drift as the conversation flowed around him. He didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep until Richie shook him.

“Jonny,” he said.

“Hmmm?” Jon mumbled before sitting upright with a start.

“Go to bed, babe,” Richie said as he stroked his hand over Jon’s hair, “I’ll be there soon after I say goodnight to dad. Mom’s already gone up. She sleeps next him still to keep an eye on him overnight.”

“I didn’t know I’d fallen asleep,” he murmured as Richie helped him from the kitchen chair. Jon wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist and laid his head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” he replied, “I put our bags in my old room. We’ll get back to our apartment tomorrow for clean clothes.”

“I can do that so you can spend time with your dad,” he tilted his head and puckered his mouth for a kiss and received one. “Take your time, Mookie.” He slipped from Richie’s arms and headed toward the bedroom.

“I love you, Jonny,” Richie called after him.

Jon turned and blew him a kiss before continuing down the hall. He closed the door with a weary breath and hefted his bag up on the bed to rummage for a pair of sweats and his toothbrush.

He slipped out of his clothes, shivering a little at the chill before slipping into the soft, well-worn sweats. He decided to grab one of Richie’s t-shirts, his favourite John Lennon one, to wear too.

He padded across the hall to the bathroom and emptied his bladder for the night and cleaned his teeth before gratefully slipping between the sheets. It hadn’t been the first time they’d stayed in Richie’s old bedroom but it was the first time he’d gone to bed alone here. He smashed the pillow into a comfortable shape and buried his head. It wasn’t long before he fell into and easy sleep.

He was vaguely aware of Richie coming to bed, feeling his cool arm slide around his waist from behind and under the t-shirt, skin-on-skin contact, his body up close behind. 

“Mookie,” he murmured sleepily.

“Yeah, Cowboy,” Richie replied softly as he laid soft kisses over his shoulder, his hand splayed wide over Jon’s belly, his fingers stroking little patterns through his soft belly hair.

Jon lay in a dreamlike state as Richie slowly kissed across his shoulder and his hand gliding over his skin beneath the t-shirt. 

“Need you, Jonny,” Richie whispered.

Even though he was exhausted he knew he would give Richie whatever he wanted right now.

Jon let Richie set a slow, easy pace as the t-shirt was bunched up high on his torso and Richie’s warm mouth traversed his back and down his spine. He felt himself harden, his cock trapped between the bedding and their combined weight. 

He was starting to regret wearing clothes to bed, his body temperature rising as Richie’s lips worshipped the spot at the base of his spine that turned him into a molten puddle of want.

Richie shifted his attention back to his neck, scooping his hair away to gain access to the most vulnerable, sensitive skin hidden at the nape. Moist warmth moved down his spine to the junction of Jon’s neck and shoulder before skipping up to his jaw. He turned his head infinitesimally, seeking out Richie’s mouth.

Richie moved his hand from Jon’s belly slowly to his hip, slipping beneath the waistband of his sweats to mold over the globe of flesh. Jon couldn’t help but move restlessly against the questing fingers as they stroked over the cleft of his ass.

With a breathy, barely audible groan Richie rolled Jon to his back, finally able to deepen their lazy, sleepy kisses. Jon’s fingers slipped around the back of Richie’s neck, his other hand sought out Richie’s nipple to lightly tease, as Richie slowly pulled the sweats down his flank. He raised his hips slightly as Richie slipped them down his legs, Jon kicking at them to finally free himself of them.

He spread his legs to accept Richie’s weight between them as his dark-haired lover slid his arm beneath him to hold him close as they continued to kiss. Each kiss only stoked the slow-burn between them. 

With little effort, Richie rolled over pulling Jon on top of him. Jon took the opportunity to straighten up and pull the t-shirt over his head and losing it into the darkness of the room.

He looked down at Richie, spotlighted in moonbeams seeping around the edges of the curtains. He didn’t need him to speak the words for Jon to know how much Richie loved him. He could see it in his eyes as clearly as if it were on the news ticker in Times Square.

He leant forward and pressed his lips to Richie’s as his emotions started to bubble up. He squashed them for the moment, deciding that talking at this point was unnecessary and pointless; they both understood what their eyes conveyed. 

Jon nibbled down over Richie’s stubbled chin, swiping his tongue over the slight cleft as he moved down over his chest and belly, slowly, savouring every sigh and moan that he drew from Richie’s lips. 

He nuzzled around the base of his cock, feeling the silky skin of Richie’s erection brush against his cheek in the softest of caresses. Bracing himself on one hand, he wrapped the other around Richie before lowering his lips to the smooth tip. Richie arched beneath him and let out a soft strangled cry as Jon lowered his mouth down the length, stopping at his hand. 

He kept his ministrations slow and gentle, twisting his wrist and flicking his tongue against the velvety flesh in the ways he knew Richie loved. He flicked his eyes up Richie’s body only to see him watching him, slack-jawed. 

He drew off Richie’s cock, holding his gaze as he flicked his tongue rapidly through the slit and was rewarded when Richie groaned, his fists clenching the sheets beside him and his eyes closing, his body arching up for more.

The next moment Jon was being man-handled back up the bed and flipped onto his belly as Richie raised his hips before diving face first between his ass. Jon writhed against the mattress as Richie’s hands kneaded his ass cheeks and back and his mouth created havoc at his entrance. He shivered violently and chuckled darkly as Richie scraped his stubble over the puckered flesh.

Jon’s eyes rolled back when Richie hit an extremely sensitive patch of skin along the edge of his spine as he worked his mouth up along his back. He welcomed Richie’s weight covering him and rolled his ass back against him, earning him a soft growl and nip on the ear from Richie.

Jon chuckled and shifted a little, opening himself to the hard shaft seeking shelter. They both moaned as Richie pushed through easily, taking advantage of the saliva he’d left and the copious pre-cum he was leaking. By mutual understanding, they paused for a moment, Jon grasping at Richie’s hand and holding tight before their bodies sought out the perfect rhythm.

Their sighs and moans created the soundtrack to their night; a night of renewal to their commitment and promises of love and strength, safety in each others arms. The climaxes, when they did come, felt like the universe’s blessing over their union. 

It was emotional and powerful...primal; something that rocked Jon to the core. 

It felt...different...than other times they’d made love, which had been plenty over the years. He was glad his breathing was so erratic in the moments after his release so that it disguised the raw emotion that bubbled through his chest. 

He knew Richie had felt it too when he whispered, “Jonny….”

“I know, Mookie,” he returned hoarsely, “Whatever happens….”


	11. Chapter 11

**Richie**

Richie had fallen asleep quickly but woke with every noise he heard. He lay beside Jon watching him sleep as he mumbled in his sleep and snoring softly. He laid his hand over Jon’s and softly stroked the skin beneath his thumb. 

He reached out and gently traced Jon’s bottom lip and smiled fondly when his tongue darted out to rid himself of the annoyance. He was tempted to do it again but given Jon’s usual reaction to being woken unexpectedly, he decided against it. 

He lay there for what seemed like hours as his mind drifted like a feather in the wind, never able to settle on one thing, until he couldn’t take it anymore. He rose from the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats; his or Jon’s, he wasn’t sure. Grabbing a throw from the bottom of the bed and draping it around his shoulders, he slipped from the bedroom and padded into the bathroom to pee.

He wandered the almost silent house, stopping in the kitchen for a glass of water before walking quietly up the stairs. He stopped outside his parents’ bedroom, remember the countless times he’d done the same thing as a child when he’d been woken from a nightmare. He opened the door quietly but didn’t go in. He just stood there for a long moment before deciding to sit against the wall opposite the door.

He listened to his mother softly snoring and the hiss of the machine pumping life-giving oxygen into his father. 

He’d managed to talk to his mom more in-depth about what she’d been dealing with as his dad’s health had declined rapidly after the cancer had spread suddenly; changing bedpans and catheter bags, administering pain relief through his IV lines, bed baths and not to mention having to deal with his anger as he railed at the injustice of it all. 

He had found a new admiration for her and could see why Jon had said that she had scared him.

“Everything okay, Mookie,” Jon whispered and slid down the wall beside him.

“Hmm,” Richie nodded and opened the throw as Jon snuggled into his side, “Couldn’t sleep. Why are you here? You should be asleep.”

“You left over half an hour ago,” he replied, “I waited for you to come back but you didn’t.” 

“Sorry, Cowboy,” he said and kissed the top of Jon’s head, “I thought you were asleep.” He hauled Jon up closer to him as they sat in silence for a moment. “You don’t have to sit here with me,” he said.

“I know,” Jon said, “Whatever happens.”

Jon fell asleep against Richie’s side as he, himself, drifted in and out of a light doze.

The sound of laboured breathing and harsh coughing woke Richie out of his sleep. He was dazed and confused as to where he was until another raspy inhale of breath came from within his parents' room.

“Shhh, sweetheart.” Joan’s soft words filtered through to him, “I’m right here, Adam.”

“Joanie.”

Richie came to full consciousness within seconds and extricated himself from Jon. 

“Mom?” he said before entering the room. Jon roused himself, confused after being suddenly woken. Adam’s coughing and wheezing became more frequent and pronounced.

“Richard?!” she said, “What are you doing out there? You scared me!” Joan was kneeling beside Adam in her nightgown as she struggled to rearrange pillows to elevate Adam’s head a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “We fell asleep out there. Is dad okay?”

“The medication is wearing off,” she replied, “Turn on that lamp, will you, please?”

Richie pressed the small button and the room filled with a soft glow. His father looked worse as his mouth gaped with the effort of breathing.

“Adam, sweetheart,” Joan said as she and Richie positioned his father onto a mound of pillows, “Adam…,” Joan said as he struggled to open his eyes, “Richard is here, sweetheart. He came home early to see you.” 

Adam’s pale, watery eyes slowly moved from his wife’s face to his son’s.

“Hey, dad,” Richie smiled when Adam was looking at him even if it was slightly unfocused, “I made it back.”

Adam raised an unsteady hand and reached out to Richie who took the hand between his own. Richie was shocked at the strength in which Adam grasped his hand. He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of his father’s hand.

With his other hand, Adam swiped at the oxygen mask until he got his message across and Joan removed it. Mimicking Richie’s movement, he drew their hands to his face and rubbed his cheek against them, a tear tracking down his almost translucent cheek.

“Richard,” he breathed, barely a noise came from him apart from the death-rattle emanating from his chest. “S-sorry. Love y-you. So...proud...of you.”

“I love you too, dad,” Richie choked out, “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay…it’s okay. Take it easy, please, don’t tire yourself.”

“Jon?” Adam asked.

“He’s here,” Richie looked over his shoulder to Jon hanging around in the doorway. He indicated to him to move closer before turning his gaze back to his dad. He felt Jon move up behind him, his warmth seeping through his back.

“Hey there,” Jon said softly to Adam, his head resting on Richie’s shoulder.

Adam smiled weakly and mouthed ‘thank you’ to him and Richie felt Jon’s fingers curl into his side as he released a shuddery sigh.

Adam was caught in a paroxysm of coughing just then. Richie helped him sit up, holding him upright against his own body as the coughing started to calm. The cough was thick and wet and had left Adam breathless with bloody flecks of spit over his lips and chin. 

“Sweetheart?” Joan said, “Do you need your painkillers?” She wiped his mouth and caressed his face lovingly after Adam had laid back down.

Adam shook his head weakly as Jon passed a glass of water to Richie.

“You probably should, dad,” Richie agreed, holding the glass and paper straw for Adam to take a sip from.

“No!” he said as strongly as he could. “Too late. No doctors. No more.”

Joan gasped quietly from where she sat, the tears had started to fall freely down her face.

“Dad! Don’t say that,” Richie pleaded, “You just need to rest now.” Jon’s hold tightened on him for which he was thankful for. It stopped him from feeling as though he was about to shatter.

Adam’s eyes drifted around his family, occasionally rolling back before refocusing on something just off in the distance, nodding in agreeance with some spectral being only he could see.

“Joanie,” he breathed heavily, struggling with every breath, “My love. My everything. I will miss you...more than you know. I will wait for you.”

“Oh sweetheart…,” Joan cried as she held his other hand, “I love you too. It’s okay, sweetheart. I understand.” She leant down and kissed him sweetly, taking a moment. Words were so unnecessary in this instance as their hearts spoke for them.

Richie’s emotions bubbled through him as he watched his parents ultimately say goodbye to each other after more than 30 years together and he thought his dad had fallen asleep with his mom’s face pressed as close as could be but at that moment Adam turned his head to look at both boys and smiled weakly.

Jon kissed his temple after he’d sighed with relief, and whispered into his ear, “I’m right here, Mookie.”

“My Richard,” Adam said.

“Dad,” his voice came out strangled, “you need to rest.”

“Time for rest soon,” he replied, “Need to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How sorry I am,” Adam drew in a shaky breath, “for hurting you for those years...and now.” Every second or third word was punctuated with a gasping breath.

“Dad...shhh,” Richie wept, “It’s okay, it doesn’t matter now. I forgive you...I forgive you.” He held Adam’s hand over his heart and placed his own on his dad’s.

“So happy you have Jon,” his words were becoming weaker, “Look after each other. If you marry, I’ll be there. Open your heart. You’ll know.”

“Jon, look after him?” 

Jon sniffed and nodded. He placed his hand over Richie’s on Adam’s chest and said, “I will, I promise.”

“Both good boys. So proud.” His eyes fluttered as Adam’s energy was sapped, “Joanie….”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” she said tearfully, “I’m not going anywhere. Do you want something for the pain?”

Adam shook his head slowly as the rattle in his chest became louder and his breathing shallowed out. “No...more. Too late.”

Jon stood from behind Richie and placed the oxygen mask back over the older man’s face as his eyes closed in exhaustion. Jon moved back to Richie and stood beside him, drawing his head against his chest.

And so the three watched as Adam fought for every breath, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. Jon fetched coffee for them all and offered to call the doctor.

Dr Fredricks arrived on his way to his office. He examined Adam quietly and with a heavy sigh, packed up his stethoscope into his bag.

“I’m sorry...I wish I could give you some good news,” the doctor said, “but I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time now. Did you administer any of the morphine I left yesterday?”

“No,” Joan said, “He didn’t want it. It’s still in the locked box in the dresser drawer.”

“Hmm,” Dr Fredricks nodded, “Keep it handy. I would strongly suggest that if Adam starts to struggle with his breathing any worse than he already is, then you may need to give him the lighter dose just to keep him pain-free.”

He paused for a moment to let that sink in then continued, “Call any family you need to, Joan, and I would do it today. I’ll come back when I can but call me if you think Adam needs me.”

Joan mumbled her thanks as the doctor left as she climbed into the bed to lie down with her ailing husband.

“Mom?” he asked softly, “Can I do anything for you?”

He waited for an answer but his mother seemed to have shut down in the aftermath of Dr Fredricks’ visit, so he took it upon himself to ring his aunts and uncle and the family priest. 

When the last hard phone call had been made, he grabbed his jacket and went outside. He walked around the small backyard in the weak morning sun, tapping a cigarette out of the pack and lit it as he absorbed the life around him. 

He had almost finished his smoke when Jon came out of the back door, “There you are!”

“Hey...just needed some time,” he replied as he stubbed out the cigarette, “before all the madness descends.” He walked over to Jon who was standing just outside the door on the steps. He bent his head against Jon’s chest, taking advantage of the height difference, as their arms entwined around each other.

Jon kissed the top of his head and asked quietly, “Anything I can do for you, Rich?”

“Apart from ridding the world of cancer?” he sighed and shook his head, “You’re doing it, babe.” He tipped his face up to Jon’s as they shared a kiss, “Just being here is helping.” 

They stood, holding each other for a long moment until Jon asked, “When was the last time you showered?”

“Back in LA before that last gig. Why? Do I stink?” Richie chuckled and looked up.

“Hmm kinda,” he smirked, “Why don’t we go have a quick shower before your family gets here? We can throw some laundry on too.”

“My domesticated kitty,” Richie said, punctuating it with a kiss.

“I could go back to our place later and get clean clothes.”

“When we go home,” Richie reached for the door handle and ushered Jon inside, “I won’t want to leave for a week so shower and doing laundry here sounds good to me.”

After their showers, Richie wandered into the living room still towelling his hair dry. He threw the towel on the floor and sat heavily on the couch, dropping his head to the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

“Laundry is..oh,” Jon stopped talking, thinking that Richie was asleep.

“I’m awake,” he rolled his head toward Jon as he spoke. He held up his hand and motioned him over, “I always said you looked good in my clothes, sweetheart. But even better out of them, though. Get your sweet ass over here.”

Richie pulled Jon onto his lap with a small oof. Jon grinned and snaked an arm around Richie’s neck as he snuggled closer. Richie linked his fingers with Jon’s as they cuddled in silence.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Cowboy,” Richie murmured, “I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do,” Jon said, “and I love you just as much.” He leaned down slightly and placed his lips against Richie’s.

Richie sighed into the kiss, savouring Jon’s taste on his lips and tongue. They sat kissing softly for a long while, taking comfort in each other but still ever vigilant of what was going on around them.

Jon broke their lips apart when a car door slamming outside, drew their attention.

“Want me to get the door?” Jon asked. He started to push off from where he was sitting until Richie tightened his arm around Jon’s waist.

“Nah,” he said, “It’s probably the family. Loretta said she has a key so she can let them all in.” Just as he finished saying that the unmistakable sound of a key in a lock could be heard and the door swung open, casting the gloomy living room into daylight.

“Hello?! Joanie? Richard?” Richie’s aunt, Loretta, called out. “Oh! Oops!” she said and covered her eyes with her hands after seeing her nephew on the couch, “We’re not interrupting, are we?”

“No, Aunt Loretta, c’mon in,” Richie called out as Jon shifted from his lap as his two other aunts, Sophie and Stella, and his Uncle Edward came through the door laden with grocery bags. 

Both he and Jon stood and took the bags from them before submitting to their tearful greetings. 

“Oh sweetheart,” his aunt Sophie cried, “How are you holding up? How is Adam?”

“Dad had some clarity early this morning but lost consciousness not long after he’d said his piece,” Richie filled his aunts in.

“Where is Joan,” Stella asked then turned to her brother, “Eddie, be a dear and help Jon with the groceries.”

“Such a bossy brat,” Edward grumbled good-naturedly as he led the way into the kitchen.

“Mom is upstairs,” Richie said, “She hasn’t left dad’s side since Doc Fredricks left.”

“What did Ralph say exactly?”

“That it’s a matter of time; hours...hence me calling you all.”

The three sisters looked sadly at each other as Edward came back into the living room.

“You want me to go get mom?”

“No, we’ll just go on up,” Loretta said, “You two can carry on whatever you were doing when we came in.”

Adam’s sisters took over. They encouraged Joan to shower and dress and they fixed her hair and makeup as Edward sat with his brother. 

Taking turns in sitting with Adam throughout the day, the women did what they did best; started to cook. They made casseroles and pasta dishes to last for days, setting aside enough to load up the freezer so that Joan didn’t need to cook for a while. 

The Sambora house took on more of a homely feel again, chasing away the deathly pall that had insidiously invaded the once lively house. It still tried, reminding them it was there with every harsh cough from upstairs.

“Richie? Jon?” Stella called, “Come and eat, boys. There’s plenty to choose from before we bundle it all up.”

“Thanks, Aunt Stella,” Richie said as he stood and hauled Jon up with him. “If we don’t go and eat something, she’ll set the others onto us,” he said under his breath.

“You think I’m gonna argue?” Jon replied with a chuckle, “I’m surrounded by Samboras. I’m feeling a little outnumbered.”

Over the meal, his aunts peppered Richie with questions about his time on the road and the bar. Joan had refused to leave her husband’s side to eat so Loretta took a bowl of soup up to her when it was her turn to sit with them. They’d taken upon themselves to alternate sitting with Joan and Adam as his condition worsened.

Edward returned to the kitchen and stood in the doorway with a weary sigh. 

“How is he doing, Eddie?” Sophie asked.

Adam’s brother looked around at the expectant faces and shook his head sadly, “I wish Joanie would give him some pain relief. He’s struggling badly.”

“He didn’t want it, Uncle Eddie,” Richie replied, “He was very sure about that. Mom won’t go against his wishes.” 

Adam had been drifting in and out of consciousness but not to the level of being able to hold a conversation; they were only fleeting seconds of time. Each of his relatives had tried to convince Joan to administer the morphine but she held true to her husband’s request.

“And I don’t like seeing my brother in agony,” Eddie snapped back. “One dose would take all that pain away!”

Richie’s stomach turned ominously at his uncle’s words and threatened to purge the contents. He balled up the paper napkin and tossed it onto the table. His chair scraped angrily along the floor as he stood and left the room, giving his uncle a baleful look as he passed by. 

He took the stairs up to his parent’s bedroom, two at a time and stalked the hallway outside trying to calm down before he went inside. 

He pushed open the door and saw that his mother was still lying beside Adam. The only difference from earlier was that she was fully dressed and made up. Loretta was sitting on the opposite side. She glanced over to him and Richie could see the sadness and defeat in her eyes. 

He entered the room and went to his mother’s side, “Mom?”

Joan rolled her head toward him. Richie could see that it took a little while for her to register who it was but when it did, Joan started to sit up. 

Richie helped her upright and held her small frame steady until she could sit on her own. “Mom, can I get you anything?” he asked as he knelt down in front of her.

Joan sighed sadly and brushed a loving hand over his long hair. “It’ll be over soon, sweetheart. I think you need to call Reverend Burrows.” Joan looked back over her shoulder. 

It was then that Richie realised how shallow and erratic his father’s breathing had become. His mother turned away from him again to curl up against Adam.

Richie looked over at his aunt, who nodded. He rose and kissed his mother’s cheek. He made it back into the hallway before he leaned heavily against the wall and scrubbed his hand over his face.

“Rich? Baby, is everything okay?” Jon asked from the landing when he saw his fiancé. He raced up the remaining stairs to Richie’s side. 

Richie felt drawn into Jon’s arms and he melted into the embrace. “Just hold me a minute,” he whispered hoarsely. Jon tightened his hold and they stood there until Richie had calmed.

“What’s going on?” Jon asked softly.

Richie stepped back a little, “Mom said it’s time to call Reverend Burrows in.”

“Oh!”

Richie nodded, making for the stairs when Jon stopped him.

“I’ll do it, Mookie,” Jon said, “you go sit with your mom and dad. I’ll send the others up too.”

“I love you, Jonny,” Richie said softly, “Never leave me.”

“Never, I love you too much.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Jon**  
  
Jon stood vigil as the family gathered around Adam in his last moments, keeping a close eye on Richie just as he’d promised.  
  
Reverend Burrows had arrived not long after Jon had called him. The kindly older gent spoke with Joan and the family as Jon stood in the doorway. He slipped out without being noticed as soon as the Reverend had started to lead the family in prayer.  
  
Jon sat on the top step and tuned out to the drone of the unfamiliar voice. He wasn’t going to be a hypocrite. He didn’t believe in God or religion. Richie knew that and understood.   
  
They’d spent many hours discussing formal religion with both agreeing that the _institution_ of religion wasn’t for them. Richie, however, still held his faith in God and due to the circumstances, participated in the ritual being performed for his father.  
  
Jon had lost his faith many years ago after praying for years to God for his mother to come looking for him.   
  
She never came.   
  
Jon, who had been around 8 or 9 then, had railed at God for not answering his prayers. The prayers eventually stopped, the angry recriminations stopped and he just gave up on his faith in a make-believe being.  
  
Jon showed the Reverend to the door after he’d said his quiet goodbyes to the family.  
  
“I noticed you weren’t with us in prayer, Jon?” he asked.  
  
“That’s right,” Jon replied, crossing his arms defensively.   
  
“May I ask why?”  
  
“When you’ve had the life I have, you only believe in the tangible,” Jon shrugged. “Then if you’re disappointed, you’ve only got yourself to blame for not investigating things properly before making a decision.”  
  
“Such a jaded view for one so young.”  
  
“I don’t wanna seem disrespectful,” Jon said, “but it’s all bullshit. After being shunted from foster home to foster home from the age of 4, then ending up in the last one where my _parents_ physically and sexually abused me every day, then if I’m jaded then so be it.”  
  
“But what about when you meet that someone special and she wants to get married in the church?” Reverend Burrows asked, “Will you come back to religion then?”  
  
“I do have someone special already and we will get married someday but right now he’s upstairs watching his father die.”   
  
Jon stood his ground as the older clergyman blinked at him, unable to counter Jon’s statement.   
  
The Reverend gathered his wits and said, “It’s not too late to repent and change your ways. Sinners will burn in hell!”   
  
“Goodbye, Reverend,” Jon opened the door and closed it again after pushing him out.  
  
Jon gave religion a mental _Fuck You_ as he hurried back up the stairs. As he entered the room, he had a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right.  
  
“Oh fuck, no,” he murmured.   
  
He saw Joan draped over Adam’s chest and his siblings embracing, quietly crying.  
  
“Mookie?” Jon said hoarsely, laying his hand on Richie’s shoulder.   
  
Richie turned to him, his eyes flooded with tears. Jon pulled him into his arms and held on tight as silent sobs shook Richie’s frame. He soothed him the best he could.  
  
He couldn’t tell how long he held Richie but the world continued to revolve around them. Jon was vaguely aware of Loretta, or it could have been Stella or even Sophie, moving around them to Joan’s side to offer her comfort.   
  
Each of Adam’s sisters and Edward said their goodbyes to their brother and one by one left the room. Edward bent to speak with Joan and Jon heard him mention Doc Fredricks and the authorities. He must have offered to make the necessary calls. He squeezed Jon’s shoulder in support on his way out.  
  
It left Jon with Richie and Joan. Richie’s tears had dried to hiccups and sniffles finally, and he pulled away from Jon to swipe his hands over his face.  
  
“I’m sorry, Mookie,” Jon said, “Are you okay?” He realised it was a stupid question as soon as it left his lips and mentally face-palmed himself. “Damn it, I know you’re not okay….”  
  
Richie offered him a small smile, “It’s okay, Cowboy. I know what you meant.”  
  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Jon continued, “The good Reverend decided to lecture me on my lack of religious faith on his way out the door, otherwise I would have been here.”  
  
“He always was a pompous ass,” Richie replied. He then turned and saw his mom still lying with his dad. He slipped from Jon’s arms and knelt by her side.   
  
Jon watched, waited to see if he could help as Richie gently coaxed his mother around.  
  
“Mom?” he said, “He’s gone, mom. He’s not in pain anymore.” He gently lifted her from his dad’s body. “C’mon, mom. Come downstairs now.”   
  
Richie got Joan to stand up, supporting her on one side. Jon rushed to her other side and did the same. Joan looked up them both and with a sad smile, said, “He was so proud of you both. He said his boys were his greatest gift.”  
  
Jon swallowed hard over the emotion that suddenly caught in his throat as they escorted Joan down the stairs. He hadn’t expected to feel this way. Sure, he’d grown fond of Richie’s parents over the years but to be included in a powerful statement like that, it blew him away.  
  
Richie settled his mom on the sofa and she was immediately surrounded by her sisters-in-law with a cup of strong, sweet tea.  
  
“I need a cigarette,” Richie said to Jon after seeing his mom being taken care of, “Come with me?”  
  
Jon nodded and followed Richie outside. On their way through the kitchen, Edward stopped Richie and explained that he’d made the call to the doctor and the funeral home and both would be here shortly.  
  
“Thanks, Uncle Eddie,” Richie said, “I appreciate your help.”  
  
“It’s no bother, Rich. I’ll have something a bit stronger than tea waiting for you when you come back inside,” he said with a wink.  
  
Once outside, Richie paced the yard again as Jon passed him a lit cigarette.  
  
“Christ, it feels like I haven’t seen the sun in months,” Richie sighed as he turned his head up to the evening sky. He drew deeply on the smoke between his fingers.  
  
“You will, babe,” Jon sympathised, “The first weekend of summer, we’ll head to the beach and we’ll sit on the beach all day just soaking up the sun.”  
  
“God, can we?” He stopped in his tracks and Jon noted the play of emotions over his face.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“I...it just occurred to me that I was planning a weekend in the future when dad can’t do that anymore. It felt...wrong, I guess. Fuck!”  
  
Jon took Richie’s hand and held it over his heart, “He's here. In your heart. You know that he would want you to keep going on with your life. You and your mom.”  
  
“I know…,” he whispered sadly and went back to blankly gazing up at the sky as Jon hovered close by.  
  
*~*  
  
Later that evening after Doc Fredricks and the authorities had left and the funeral directors had finished taking details and arranging for Adam’s body to be transported, Jon was in the bedroom looking for his cigarettes.  
  
“Finally,” he exclaimed. He shook it, then opened it only to find it empty. With a disgruntled sigh, he crumpled it before throwing it in the trash.  
  
“Babe, I’m outta smokes,” Jon said, “I’m just going to run out and get some more.” He grabbed his car keys and wallet.  
  
“Sure. Want me to come with you?” Richie was sorting and folding the washing Jon had done.  
  
“Umm, no it’s okay,” Jon replied as he shrugged into his jacket, “You stay in case you’re needed. Besides, I thought I’d go see Mom and Da...fuck, sorry.”  
  
Richie stopped what he was doing and pinned Jon with an unreadable look.  
  
“Don’t! Don’t you dare, Jonny,” Richie growled, “That’s the last fucking thing I want or need from you. I don’t want your pity, okay?”  
  
“Babe, I didn’t mean to…,” Jon started to say.  
  
“I know!” Richie cried then huffed out a frustrated breath, “I know...but please don’t stop calling Eddie dad just because mine isn’t here anymore.”   
  
His voice wavered toward the end of his plea and Jon folded him into his arms.   
  
“You deserve to have a loving dad, darlin’,” Richie said, “Flo and Eddie love you so please don’t deny them that.”  
  
“I just didn’t want to upset you,” Jon said, holding Richie closer.  
  
“And I love you for that, darlin’,” Richie said softly, “but I’m okay. I got to talk to Dad and tell him I love him.”  
  
“That was the one thing that would have broken me if I didn’t get to do it.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Hmm...yeah. I think so,” he sighed, “I’m more worried about mom right now.”  
  
“Yeah, she’s taking it hard, but that’s understandable, I guess,” Jon pulled his head back slightly to look at Richie. “I’d be distraught if I lost you.”   
  
“That’s not gonna happen, Cowboy.” He brushed some hair from Jon’s face before touching his lips to Jon’s in a tender kiss. “Now go see Eddie and Flo and get your last pack of smokes. Maybe grab some beer, too?”  
  
“Yeah, sure...wait! Last pack?!”  
  
“We’re giving them up...or going to at least try to. Dad was a smoker too and look where that got him?!” He stood to place some folded shirts into a drawer.  
  
Jon could see his point but he wasn’t so sure it was going to be a simple task. He decided to just go with it for the moment but he could already feel the withdrawals happening. He pouted and said, “Can we talk about this when I get back?”  
  
Richie was just about to agree when a knock on the bedroom door interrupted him  
  
“Richard?” Sophie called through the barrier, “Do you have a moment, sweetheart? Can you please look over the arrangements? Joan can’t seem to be able to concentrate and we don’t want to miss anything.”  
  
“Be right there, Aunt Sophie,” he called back. He sat heavily on the side of the bed.  
  
“Go help your mom. I’ll be back soon.” Jon stroked his back as he spoke.  
  
Richie nodded and pushed himself upright again, opening the door, “Whatever happens?”  
  
Jon said, “Whatever happens, Mookie.”  
  
  
*~*  
  
Jon had stopped to get his cigarettes and some beer then drove over to the Rashbaum’s home. He smiled when he saw David’s car in the drive. God, it feels like a lifetime ago that he was teasing him for being in bed with them that morning.  
  
Jon killed the car and let himself in the back door.   
  
“Hello?!” he called out. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the hook beside the door.  
  
“Jon?!” Flo replied, “We’re in the dining room, sweetheart. David, go get Jon a dinner plate, please.”  
  
“He’s in the kitchen,” David protested, “he can get it himself!”  
  
Jon had to grin at his family’s antics. It soothed a little of his sore heart.   
  
However, it also broke down a little of the barrier that he’d put up around his grief over Adam’s death. He came to a sudden stop as it washed over him in a tidal wave, so forceful that it took his breath away. His face crumpled and he slammed his hand over his mouth as a sob bubbled up from his chest.  
  
“What’s taking you so-,” David burst through the door just as he broke, “Oh fuck...Jonny.”   
  
He took Jon into a hard, brotherly embrace as the wall finally came down. He cried against David’s shoulder just as Richie had done with him. He was oblivious to the fact that David shooed Flo away from the kitchen when she came to investigate or the hushed voices coming from the dining room.   
  
Finally, the tears subsided and Jon stepped away from David.  
  
“I’m sorry, Davey,” Jon said hoarsely.  
  
“Fuck off,” he replied, “What are brothers for if not to get snotted on now and again. Colty’s done worse to me.”   
  
He paused, then said, deadly serious, “You could have told me, man. I could have helped.”  
  
Jon swiped his hand under his nose and nodded, “I know but-.”  
  
“Unca Jon! Unca Jon!”  
  
Colton ran up to his uncle from the dining room, obviously having been set free from his high chair. Jon scooped up the little boy and buried his nose into his neck breathing deeply. It was just the thing he needed.  
  
“Unca Jon sad?” Colton touched the tears on Jon’s face. “Why sad? You got ouchie, Unca Jon? I kiss better.”  
  
“No, baby, no ouchie.” Jon smiled fondly.  
  
“Do you remember Uncle Mookie’s dad?” Colton nodded. “Well he got very sick and he had to go away tonight. We all had to say goodbye to him.”  
  
Jon heard a soft noise come from the doorway. He glanced over to see Amber, Flo and Eddie standing in the doorway. He gave them a brief, sad smile.  
  
“He get better and come back?”  
  
“No, Colty, he’s not coming back. Uncle Mookie and his mom are very sad tonight too. Their hearts are sore. But Mookie’s dad will watch over them from somewhere up in the sky.”  
  
“Unca Jon kiss Unca Mookie’s ouchie?”  
  
David snorted in mirth and Jon grinned, “It'll take more than a kiss for this ouchie."  
  
“C’mon Colton,” Amber said, “Leave Uncle Jon to talk to Grandma and Grandpa. Time for your bath.”  
  
“No! No baff,” Colton said and tightened his arms around Jon’s neck.  
  
“Go have your bath, Colty, and I’ll read you a story before I go back to Mookie, okay?” Jon loosened the little limbs and kissed his cheek.   
  
“Yay! Story!” The little boy wriggled out of Jon’s arm and ran to his mother.  
  
“I’ll talk to you later, Jon,” Amber kissed his cheek and patted his back, “Give Richie and Joan my love, won’t you?!”  
  
“Thanks. I will,” Jon replied. He then drew in a deep breath as Flo stepped over to him.  
  
Flo didn’t say a word, just opened her arms to him and Jon gratefully stepped into them. He drew on the love and strength Flo offered to him.   
  
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said and relinquished her hold on Jon finally, “Was it rough? Richie and Joan...are they okay?”  
  
Jon accepted a brief hug from Eddie, who was moving between the dining room and kitchen as he cleared the table with David’s help.  
  
“Mrs S is taking it hard,” Jon said as he helped himself to coke from the fridge, “but Richie’s aunts and uncle are there helping.”  
  
“And Richie?” Eddie asked.  
  
Jon stopped to think and with a small shrug said, “As good as can be expected. It was rough when Mr S woke and you could see and hear how much pain he was in, but they both said what they needed to. I think they’re both at peace now.”  
  
“Well...if we can do anything, just let us know,” Eddie offered, “Do you know when the service is?”  
  
“End of the week, I believe,” Jon said, “I’ll let you know more later. I don’t want to stay away too long tonight. Can I use your phone before I go?”  
  
“Of course you can, sweetheart,” Flo said, “Can I fix you a plate of food? Do you have time?”  
  
“Thanks, but don’t bother with the food,” Jon said, “Richie’s family have cooked enough food to keep an army going.”  
  
The four of them were still in the kitchen as Colton’s happy squeals from the bathroom rent the air. All four of them looked to the ceiling and smiled.  
  
“So what happened to all the equipment?” David asked Jon.  
  
“Simon and the guys were coming home on the bus,” Jon said and took a sip of his coke, “They should be home by the weekend.”  
  
“Have you been home yet, sweetheart?” Flo asked.   
  
Jon shook his head and said, “No, not yet. I need to call the bar too, I guess, and let them know we should be back next week.”  
  
“I can call in there for you tomorrow,” David said.  
  
“Thanks, Davey,” Jon said as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, “I guess I should make that phone call and get going.”  
  
“Good luck trying to get out of reading a story now,” Eddie chuckled, “Go make your phone call. I’ll head Colty off for a little bit.”  
  
“Okay, thanks. I won’t be long.”   
  
He took his coke into the den with him and closed the door. Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, he fished out the business card that Nikki had slipped to him as he’d left them at the airport.  
  
He punched in the numbers and listened to the dial tone, apprehensively.  
  
“Your coin!”  
  
“Nikki?”  
  
“Nah, dude. This is Tommy. Nikki’s here, though. Can I tell him who’s calling?”  
  
“It’s Jon.”  
  
“Oh! Jon! Heard a lot about you, dude! Hang on, I’ll get Nikki for you.”  
  
“Thanks…,” he said to the dead air. Tommy had already left.  
  
Jon heard the receiver being picked up, “Loverboy?”  
  
“Nikki...can you be here by Friday?”  
  
“For Richie...I’d do anything. I’ll be there.”


	13. The End

**Two Years Later - Christmas**  
  
**Richie**  
  
“Where are we going, Lema?” Richie grumbled.  
  
“You’ll see. Have patience, grasshopper,” he grinned.  
  
He and Jon had a dinner date that night, Christmas Eve, but Richie hadn’t seen Jon since earlier that morning when he’d come upstairs from Rosie’s. He’d left instructions to be ready for David to pick him up at 8 pm sharp and to wear something nice.  
  
He sat back and stared out the window as a soft snowfall started. The radio was playing Christmas carols and David was humming along as he drove. It would have been the perfect night except he had the wrong person in the car with him.  
  
“Why are you driving me anyway and why are you dressed up to the nines?” Richie said after a little while, the humming eating away at his patience.  
  
“I’m driving so that you two can enjoy your night,” David reasoned, “and Amber and I have a dinner date before the baby arrives.”  
  
“Besides,” he continued, “Jon asked me to drive.”  
  
“Well, what about Amber? Shouldn’t she be here if you’re going out?”  
  
“I’m meeting her there,” David countered, “What’s with the twenty questions?”  
  
“I dunno...just uneasy, I guess.”  
  
“Well,” David said as he indicated to turn off the highway, “we’re almost there.”  
  
Richie finally got his bearings.   
  
They were at a little restaurant he and Jon had stumbled across on their first weekend alone after Adam’s funeral. It was a quaint little Tudor-style place nestled on a rise overlooking a valley. Big bay windows, either side of a stone fireplace, framed the twinkling valley below.  
  
They’d almost had the place to themselves and were delighted to find out that the owners had a little B&B attached to the restaurant. They’d eaten their fill of scrumptious food and wine and retired upstairs to make love all night long. They’d visited many times after that night.  
  
Jon had given Richie his birthday present there too. He toyed with the ring on his third finger.   
  
*~*  
  
“I almost forgot...I have something for you,” Jon smiled sleepily after they’d made love for the first time.  
  
“Oh?” he asked, laying against the mound of pillows with Jon draped over his chest as he idly ran his fingers up and down his spine.  
  
“Maybe I should wait until tomorrow when it’s actually your birthday?”  
  
“Then you shouldn’t have mentioned it,” Richie said and started tickling Jon, making him squirm, “I want my present now, Cowboy.”  
  
“Okay, okay,” he giggled, trying to avoid Richie’s long fingers, “Let me up so I can get it.”  
  
Richie held his hands up and watched Jon’s naked body, lean and muscular, as he rose from their bed to search for his jeans. He dug through his pockets and pulled out a small pouch before climbing back into bed.  
  
He looked at Richie with so much love in his eyes it took his breath away.   
  
“Baby, when you gave me my ring and asked me to be yours,” he smiled, “it was the happiest day of my life. Especially since it was in front of our families and friends. I wear it with pride every day coz it’s a symbol of your love.”  
  
“It was my happiest day too, sweetheart.” Richie didn’t want to say too much, knowing that Jon needed to get where he was going in his own time. He rolled to his side as Jon sat cross-legged beside him.  
  
“It didn’t occur to me until your dad’s death that you probably needed one too, so...,” he looked over to Richie with a small apologetic smile as he tipped the contents of the pouch into his palm. “Fuck, I didn’t want to do this naked but anyway….”  
  
“You naked is always the best way, baby,” Richie smiled at him. He couldn’t help but get a little teary at Jon’s words and intention. He shifted to sit up, facing Jon.  
  
A lot has gone on in the past so the notion of him needing a symbol of Jon’s love had gone unnoticed but it also hadn’t been necessary. He knew, without a doubt, how much Jon loved him. It was the same as he loved him in return.  
  
With a deep breath Jon continued, “Richard Stephen Sambora, will you do me the honour of wearing my ring? Discover the world together? Grow old together?”  
  
He held out a shiny band of silver, ringed with Celtic knots similar to his own but with the Claddagh joining them.  
  
“Oh baby,” Richie breathed, “of course I’ll wear your ring. I love you beyond words!”   
  
He took Jon’s face in the palm of his hand and drew him in to seal the moment with a kiss. He hadn’t realised the tears had escaped until Jon kissed them away.  
  
“Before I put it on,” Jon said after they’d separated, both brushing away tears, “there’s an inscription.”  
  
Richie took the ring and held it to the light, smiling when he read the script: _Whatever Happens…._ He felt his breath hitch and fresh tears prickle behinds his eyes.  
  
“Whatever happens.”  
  
Jon took the ring from Richie’s palm and slipped it on his ring finger. Jon puffed out a breath when the ring slid over Richie’s knuckle with ease. He flashed Richie a quick grin.  
  
“I love you, Mookie, happy birthday. We’ve been through so much these past few years and we’ve made it relatively unscathed. I know we can get through anything the world throws at us now.”  
  
*~*  
  
Adam’s funeral had been hard. It had been a relatively small affair of family and close friends. As his casket had been lowered into the ground, Richie had looked up to see Nikki, and whom he presumed was Tommy.   
  
Nikki had kept in contact sporadically. They had managed to stay unnoticed until then. Nikki smiled and he felt Jon squeeze his hand. It was that moment that he knew everything was going to be okay.  
  
The family had warily eyed-off the strangers but once they knew they were friends of Richie’s, they were welcomed unreservedly.   
  
“You came,” Richie said as Nikki wrapped him in a strong hug.  
  
“Of course, I did,” Nikki said softly in his ear, “I’d do anything for you.”  
  
Tommy seemed to be a very gregarious mate to Nikki’s more reserved demeanour but it seemed to work for them. Tommy hung on every word Nikki uttered and Nikki indulged him with whatever he requested.  
  
Joan had completely shut down for a while regardless of the support of the family. Richie had ended up staying with his mom for another couple of weeks, making the commute between her place and the bar for work, until she gently kicked him out and told him to go home.  
  
“Jon is missing you, darling,” Joan said, “and you’re missing him. Come for dinner when you can and call me. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“But mom…,” he started to say.  
  
“Hush, child,” she said, “I appreciate that you’ve stayed and indulged me for as long as you have. It’s time to live again...for both of us.”  
  
“Now give me a hug and go pack your bags.”  
  
“I love you, mom.”  
  
“I know, darling. I love you too.”  
  
Richie’s music had flourished and the record company had given the go-ahead for a second album. He was still required to fly here and there for one-off shows but for the most part, he still worked and played the bar. He had so many songs written but the one he was most proud of was the one he’d written for his father. He couldn’t wait to have that one released. When he played it for an audience at the bar for the first time, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house at the end.  
  
Jon usually travelled with him now, if the stay was a long one. Which meant that David had taken on a fair share of managing the store when he wasn’t needed for Richie’s band. Especially when Amber announced that she was pregnant again.   
  
*~*  
  
Richie smiled as the visions of their lovemaking played through his memory. He idly wondered if Jon had booked the room again for tonight.  
  
David pulled into the carpark and kept the car idling as Richie got out.   
  
“Thanks, Davey,” Richie said before he closed the door, “Have a fun night.”  
  
“Yeah...we will,” David replied. Richie looked at him quizzically after seeing the look on David’s face as he pointed to the entrance.  
  
Richie turned and saw Jon standing there.   
  
He was breathtaking in a pair of dark dress pants, loose white shirt and an oversized matching jacket and a dark, longline overcoat. Richie noted that he’d had his hair trimmed as it fell in soft waves against his shoulders. Richie stood transfixed and hadn’t even noticed David pulling away.  
  
Jon grinned and the puff of his warm breath was clearly visible in the cold air and soft outside lighting.  
  
He hadn’t made a conscious effort to move but somehow found himself standing in front of Jon. They moved into each other’s arms, their lips melting into a tender kiss.  
  
“Hello, handsome,” Jon said tilting his head slightly to the side as he smiled, “I see you got my instructions.”  
  
“I did,” he replied, “Where have you been all day?”   
  
He couldn’t take his eyes off Jon. There’s was something...compelling...about him tonight. Was it the new clothes and haircut? No, it seemed to go deeper than that. Something more...spiritual.  
  
“I’m sorry I had to leave before you woke,” Jon apologised, “You’d come in late from downstairs and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I snuck out. I had a lot to do today.”  
  
“So I see!” Richie said, fingering the ends of Jon’s hair, “You cut your hair….”  
  
“Just a little,” he said with a small shrug. “Thank you for dressing up for tonight. I was worried you would flip off my suggestion.”  
  
“You like?” he asked and did a slow twirl.   
  
He had picked a pair of black leather pants and suit jacket, and similar to Jon went for a white button-up shirt. It was held together at the neck with a leather necktie with a deep purple crystal setting. His black trenchcoat flapped open in the wind that sent light flurries of snow swirling around them like faeries in the moonlight.  
  
“Very much. I’d like to show you how much,” Jon leered at him and sucked on his bottom lip, “but we’ve got other stuff to do first. Let’s go inside.” Jon took his hand and pulled him along.  
  
They stopped just outside the main entrance and Jon turned to him, inhaling deeply. Richie couldn’t pick what was going through Jon’s head. He had a kind of calm excitement buzzing through him. It was tangible enough to feel it through their joined hands.  
  
Jon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scarf and said, “Put this on and don’t ask questions, okay Mookie?”  
  
“Okay,” Richie shrugged and let Jon tie it around his eyes. Whatever Jon had planned, Richie had a feeling it was going to be a moment to be savoured.  
  
Once his eyes had been covered, he found his other senses heightened.   
  
He felt the warmth of Jon’s hand in his and heard the tinkle of the bell over the door of the quaint restaurant. He allowed Jon to take his trench coat off and hang it up with his own.   
  
The aroma of delicious hot food reached his nostrils and made his mouth water. He heard other noises, underlying the general kitchen noises and the soft music playing but couldn’t decipher what they were.  
  
Jon moved him into a specific position and said, “Don’t move just yet, Mookie.” Richie heard the nerves in Jon’s voice now and smiled a little to himself.  
  
Jon loosened the scarf and it took a little while for his eyes to adjust. Jon’s handsome face filled his vision first before he took in his surroundings.   
  
He saw the fireplace just over Jon’s shoulder, the flames flickering and dancing in joy and the mantle decorated for Christmas. To the other side, the snow was falling beyond the large bay window, the lights of the valley below shining like fairy lights.   
  
“What’s going on, Jonny?” Richie asked.  
  
Jon’s gaze flicked over Richie’s shoulder quickly and he licked his lips and asked, “Marry me...tonight?”  
  
“M-marry...tonight?” Richie gasped, “How...what….”   
  
“I don’t want to wait any longer. So….” he smiled nervously.  
  
He felt a clap of a hand on his shoulder and turned quickly to his right to see Alec standing there, resplendent in a dark suit and tie.  
  
“Answer the man,” he said with a smile, “Then we can get this show on the road.”   
  
A cheer went up through the room and Richie spun on his heels to see their families and friends. They were all dressed in evening wear; the colours sparkled in the candlelight of the restaurant lighting.  
  
His mom was standing with Flo and Eddie, both mothers had tears in their eyes as they clung to each other. David with his camera at the ready, and Amber, ripe with their second child. Nikki and Tommy, entwined around each other. Simon and his wife, Michael and Tovan with their dates. All waiting expectantly for his answer.  
  
“Mookie?” Jon drew his attention back, anxiously searching his face.  
  
“You...you did all this?” Richie breathed. Jon nodded, his eyes shining with tears.   
  
Open your heart. You’ll know.   
  
His father’s last words echoed around his mind. He did what he said and opened his heart. He felt his father’s love flow through him and around him. He cupped Jon’s face and touched his lips to Jon’s in a tremulous kiss, “Yes...yes, baby, I’ll marry you,” he said softly.   
  
“Thank Christ for that!” Alec exclaimed. He moved to the other side of them as though he was standing behind a pulpit and held his hands up for some quiet.   
  
“I’ve known Richie for a long time now,” Al started, “and I’m not sure if you all know the story but suffice to say I knew the moment he met some scrawny kid on the street one night, that something had changed. Especially after they finally fucked each other!”  
  
The room erupted into laughter. Alec looked at the mothers, shrugged and said, “My apologies, ladies.”   
  
Jon and Richie looked at each other, trying to suppress their grins. Richie bought Jon’s hand up and kissed his knuckles.  
  
“Anyway, I digress,” Alec continued, “When Jon asked me to do this, I was shocked. I mean, I’m not the most likely of people to officiate at something like this. But he explained that I was there when they first met before any of you lot knew about them so it was only fitting that I be the one that closes the circle. So I agreed.”  
  
“So here goes ...oh,” he looked at Richie and continued, ”by the way, this isn’t legal in the eyes of the law just so you know.”   
  
“I don’t care,” Richie smiled at Jon.   
  
This was more than being recognised by the legal system. This was about two becoming one for the rest of their lives in front of the people that matter the most.  
  
Alec pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket and a pair of glasses.  
  
“I love you,” Jon whispered to Richie.  
  
Richie squeezed Jon’s hand. His heart was full to bursting point; full of the love he felt for this man who had become the most important person in his life, apart from his mom.  
  
Al took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat, “So, in witnessing this tonight, we are observing only an outward sign of an inward union that already exists between Richie and Jon.”  
  
“Tonight, they have come before us to publicly affirm their love; to promise to nurture themselves, each other, and this union; and to acknowledge its centrality in their lives. They do so knowing that their union is at once the most tender, yet challenging, of all relations in life.”  
  
“There is a gentleness to the presence of love, that softens life’s rough edges. It makes us somehow braver to go forth into the world knowing that the shelter of someone’s love awaits us at days’ end.”  
  
“We are most vulnerable when we love. We place our trust in another to honour us and to care for us, to treasure us and to receive our love.”  
  
Al folded the paper carefully and took his glasses off, placing them back in his pocket before smiling benevolently at the couple in front of him.  
  
“Jon,” Al said, “Is there something you’d like to say to Richie?”  
  
Jon nodded and took a fortifying breath as he looked at Richie and said, “You know I don’t believe in God but I thank the powers that be every day that they sent you to find me that night. If you hadn’t stepped back off the curb and knocked me over, we wouldn’t be here tonight.”  
  
“The past held some bad memories for me but you came into my life and your friendship and your love soothed those bad memories and replaced them with loving, happy ones. For that, I will forever be grateful.”  
  
“I tried not to fall in love with you because of those memories but it happened anyway. I look forward to falling in love with you over and over and over again each day.”  
  
“This, my Mookie, is the beginning of forever; forever kisses, forever love, forever together as one. I thought today would be the best day of my life...but the thought of spending the rest of my days with you, makes me believe the best is yet to come.”  
  
“Today, I take you as my life-partner, my best friend and the love of my life until the end of time.”  
  
Richie had trouble breathing as the emotion behind Jon’s words took his breath away for the second time that night.   
  
Everything seemed to fade away, leaving only Jon and himself, as his future opened out in front of him. A future more certain than what it had ever been before because Jon was in it.  
  
“Richie?” Al prompted him.  
  
Richie stepped closer to Jon and looked deeply into his cobalt blue eyes, seeing his love reflected so clearly in them. He didn’t need any script to read from, in truth, he’d probably been practising these words in his head ever since he proposed to Jon.  
  
“Jon...my love, my heart. There are no words, and no proper emotions for what I feel today, the idea that you are mine is overwhelming. I am truly the luckiest man alive.”  
  
“You amaze me every day with your generosity of spirit and capacity to love, considering your past. You had so many walls put up around you, I thought I’d never be able to see the real you.”  
  
“But little by little you let me in and in you, I saw the colours of my life that I didn’t know I’d been missing.”  
  
“Jon, I am a better person because of you. Love me and I will love you, hold me and I will hold you, follow me and I will follow you. Let’s love, follow and hold each other to the ends of the earth.”  
  
“I want to see Richie loves Jon written in the sky every day for the whole world to see. I love everything about you, and I can’t wait to see where our journey, our life together, is headed.”  
  
“My love for you will be everlasting. With you, and only you, forever. You are my first, my last, my everything...my Cowboy, and I adore you.”  
  
“Just kiss him already,” Nikki piped up and Richie grinned before taking Jon’s mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.   
  
He reluctantly released Jon’s lips and watched as his eyes fluttered open. It was a moment that needed no words, a moment when their souls whispered their love to each other. It rocked Richie to his core.  
  
The room seemed to explode with sound as cheering, clapping and whistles filled the air and they were surrounded by their loved ones.  
  
**Jon**  
  
While Richie was catching up with Simon and his band and David was dancing slowly with Amber on the small dance floor in front of the fire, Jon slipped into an empty seat with the parents, releasing a happy sigh.   
  
He managed to pull it off without a hitch. He never had any doubts that Richie would not say ‘yes’ but it was whether he could keep it all a secret for as long as he did.  
  
Jon had been saving for at least a year to be able to book out the restaurant and a room in the B&B for the night. Eddie, Flo and Joan offered to help with the bar costs as a gift.  
  
“Well, sweetheart, don’t you just look like the happiest man on earth,” Flo smiled.  
  
“Probably because I am,” Jon smiled, “And I have you all to thank for it. For going along with my plan and for keeping the secret for so long.”  
  
“We wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Joan said, “Adam would have loved it. I’m sure he was here tonight. I felt him here.”  
  
“Richie said something similar,” Jon replied, “So maybe he was here. I hope so.” Joan reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.  
  
“It was a marvellous night, Jon,” Eddie nodded and raised his glass to his son, “You should be proud of yourself, son.”  
  
“Thanks, dad.”  
  
“Hey Jonny,” Nikki called and waved him over.  
  
Jon waved to Nikki and said, “I gotta go. I love you guys.” He stopped to kissed both mothers and shook his dad’s hand before moving over to Nikki and Tommy.  
  
“You did it, Loverboy,” Nikki grinned, “Congrats, man!”  
  
“Here,” Tommy held out a small package, “just a little something for later tonight. From both of us.”  
  
“Um...thanks guys,” Jon said and started to pull the ribbon on the small box, “You didn’t have to get us anything.”  
  
“Yeah, I wouldn’t open that here, babe,” Nikki smirked, “Let’s just say that’s for the party after the party.”  
  
“Best of the best,” Tommy said with a wink and snuggled into Nikki’s side, even though he was half a head taller than Nikki.  
  
“There you are, Cowboy,” Richie said from behind Jon, draping his arm across Jon’s chest and dropping a kiss to his temple. “What’s that?”  
  
“Tommy and Nikki gave us something,” he replied, “We can’t open it until later.”  
  
“Thanks, man,” Richie said sincerely, “For the present...and everything. For always being there. Tommy, man, don’t let this one get away...ever.”  
  
“No intentions of it, dude,” Tommy said. Nikki looked at him fondly and kissed him.  
  
Jon was thankful that the four of them had become good friends over time. There was no jealousy anymore, over Richie and Nikki’s past. Both couples were following a similar pathway through life and it helped to have people that knew the struggles facing same-sex couples.  
  
“Come dance with me, baby,” Richie said, slipping his hand into Jon’s, “Excuse us, guys.”  
  
Richie led him out to the small dance floor and pulled him into his arms. The music filtering through the restaurant was a soothing mix of easy listening tunes from their parents' era. The Rashbaum men offered the mothers their arms, Eddie escorting Joan to the floor and David, his mother. Amber gratefully put her feet up on one of the chairs.  
  
“Finally,” Richie moaned quietly, “I have you to myself.”  
  
“All alone...except for the rest of them,” Jon grinned as he tossed his head toward the rest of the room.  
  
Dean Martin’s dulcet tones filled the air fittingly and Richie led Jon in a gentle sway to My One And Only Love. He started humming in Jon’s ear, sending chills racing down his spine.   
  
As Dean sang, Richie tipped Jon’s head back slightly with his forefinger and Jon lost himself in the dark depths of his eyes as he softly sang along.  
  
_The very thought of you makes my heart sing  
Like an April breeze on the wings of spring  
And you appear in all your splendour  
My one and only love_  
  
The rest of the world melted away as Richie sang to his heart.  
  
_The shadows fall and spread their mystic charms  
In the hush of night while you're in my arms  
I feel your lips, so warm and tender  
My one and only love_  
  
Richie’s thumb brushed away a tear that had slowly tracked down Jon’s cheek.  
  
_The touch of your hand is like heaven  
A heaven that I've never known  
The blush on your cheek whenever I speak  
Tells me that you are my own_  
  
_You fill my eager heart with such desire  
Every kiss you give sets my soul on fire  
I give myself in sweet surrender  
My one and only love  
My one and only love_  
  
“Mookie,” Jon breathed before pulling Richie’s head down to softly capture his lips.   
  
“I love you, baby,” Richie replied once they broke from the kiss, “I can’t believe you did all of this?”  
  
“Keeping it secret was the hardest part,” Jon shrugged, “I didn’t tell anyone until I knew I had the restaurant and our room booked. Then it was just a need to know basis until I asked people to come. Nikki and Tommy were the first I asked, you know, because of flights and everything. Everyone else was easy.”  
  
“I have a question, though,” he asked, booping Jon on the nose, “If this was for real, if we’d just married in the eyes of the church…,” Jon bristled and Richie smiled a little, “Just hear me out, baby. If this was real in the eyes of the church and the legal system, who’s name do we take?”  
  
“Your name, no question,” Jon replied without hesitation, “My name reminds me that my parents didn’t want me. I don’t want it anymore. You’re my family now.”  
  
Richie shook his head, “I understand, but I think, at the very least, you hyphenate both names.”  
  
“Huh? Why?”  
  
“Baby, what better way to give those Petrie dishes that sired you, a big fuck you,” Richie brushed the backs of his fingers over Jon’s cheek, “than to give our children both names.”  
  
“Chi- children?” Jon looked up at Richie sharply, his heart beating hard against his chest wall.  
  
“Don’t you want children?” Richie asked, “You don’t think I’ve seen the way you look at David with Amber and Colton? I think you’d be an amazing dad and I thought...one day, hopefully, we could adopt.”  
  
Jon was speechless. The subject of children had never come up before. He never knew why, it was just one of those scary, adult things, something so unattainable for a same-sex couple, even after Richie had proposed. Even scarier considering his past. He didn’t know how his time with the Baxter’s was going to affect his reaction to having children of his own. He was more than willing to find out, though.  
  
He had a flash of their future together; playing on the beach, making sandcastles in the sand with a toddler, a little girl with blonde hair and Richie chasing their older son back up the sand from the water’s edge. It was so real that it was like a punch to the gut but in the very best of ways. He knew exactly what he wanted at that moment. That vision.  
  
“Jonny, baby,...are you okay?” Richie asked. “I...we...don’t have to, you know, if you don’t want to.”  
  
Jon gasped and threw his arms around Richie’s neck and held on tight. “Oh, Mookie...I want! I want that so much. I love you so much, right now.”  
  
“Oh thank god,” Richie huffed, squeezing him tightly, “I thought I’d said something wrong, or that you didn’t want kids.”  
  
“How come we haven’t talked about this before?” Jon asked, his smile wide, “We need to talk about this, but first…,” Jon claimed Richie’s lips again, “Oh fuck, babe, let’s get outta here. I want you so much right now.”  
  
“Fuck first,” Richie agreed with a smacking kiss, “talk later.”  
  
They didn’t quite get out of the party as quickly as they’d like to have but they finally closed the door behind them about an hour or so later.  
  
“Wow,” Richie exclaimed softly, “Did you do all of this, Cowboy?” He shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair, along with his overcoat.  
  
Jon smiled over his shoulder as he threw the gift box from Tommy and Nikki onto the middle of the rose petal-covered bed and also slid out of his jacket.  
  
A bottle of champagne stood in an ice-filled bucket beside the bed, two glasses and a bowl of strawberries and cream rested on the side table nearby. The welcoming fire crackled softly in the fireplace.  
  
“Everything but the champagne, strawberries and cream,” he said. “I packed for you too.” He pointed to a duffle bag sitting on the window seat.  
  
Richie sat on the bed in the middle of the rose petals and toed out of his shoes. “I’m not interested in clothes right now, baby,” he said as he started unbuttoning his shirt and moved to lay back onto the bed, “Actually, take ‘em off now.”   
  
“You don’t wanna take it slow tonight? You know, seeing it’s our wedding night?” Jon asked.  
  
Richie shook his head as his hands ran over his chest slowly, down over the softness of his belly, pushing the heel of his hand into his crotch. “We got our whole lives to do slow, Cowboy. Now...take the clothes off.”  
  
Jon could feel the heat from Richie’s gaze as he raked his eyes over him. He slipped each button through its hole, revealing his softly furred chest and belly.   
  
Richie slowly pulled on the bow on the gift box as though he was unwrapping Jon. He pulled the ribbon free as the shirt fell from Jon’s shoulders to the floor.  
  
Jon ran his hands over his torso, making his way slowly to the fastening on his pants. He unzipped them, pushing them to the floor before deciding that Richie was too overdressed. Richie watched him closely as he crawled up onto the bed between Richie’s legs.  
  
“What’s in the box, Mookie?” he asked as his hands wandered up Richie’s legs.  
  
“Huh?!” Jon smiled at his lack of concentration. His hands brushed close by the straining front of Richie’s pants.  
  
“I said...what’s in the box?” Jon repeated as he bent to nuzzle his face against the hidden prize beneath the leather.  
  
Jon ran his tongue over the leather bulge, continuing up to Richie’s navel. He looked up to the brown eyes he loved so much and said, “You’re not talking, babe.” He nipped gently at the soft skin on Richie's belly.  
  
“I’m appreciating the view, Cowboy,” he said. With a twitch of muscle as Jon hit a sensitive spot with his mouth, Richie flipped the lid of the box off. Chuckling, he reached inside and drew out two matching silver cock rings. He twirled them on his index finger, making them jingle prettily against each other.  
  
“Might be too late for those tonight,” Jon said as he pulled the cord on Richie’s pants with his teeth. He loosened the laces quickly and opened the placket to free the treasure behind it. “Definitely too late,” he grinned, working the leather over Richie’s hips and down his legs.  
  
“But wait,” Richie said as he shifted here and there to help Jon with his task, “there’s more!”   
  
Passing the rings to Jon he reached into the box again, this time surfacing with a silver straw and blade and a small mirror. Two plastic bags came out next, one with finely cut powder the other with a few different coloured pills and a substantial rock of pure coke.   
  
“Ooh!” Jon exclaimed from his position between Richie’s spread legs. He checked out the bounty that Richie had placed on his stomach, “Tommy did say it was going to be a party!”   
  
He grabbed the baggie of powder and opened it, dipped his finger into it and touched it to his tongue. Within a moment he grinned and rubbed the remainder over his gums. He swiped all the paraphernalia from where it lay on Richie’s belly, the straw and blade tinkling together as they fell to the bed.   
  
“Oh shit,” Richie grinned, putting the items back in the box as he watched Jon take a decent pinch of the powder between his fingers, “it must be good if you’re diving into it!”  
  
Jon smirked. “Lie back, Mookie,” he said and gently shoved at his shoulder. He bent over him and licked a broad stripe over both of Richie’s nipples before sprinkling a little of the coke over each of them, then doing the same to his eager cock dancing between them both.  
  
Richie grabbed his wrist and brought the powered fingers to his mouth, sucking them into his mouth. Jon’s belly swirled as Richie suckled at his fingers, humming and making sure all traces of the drug were gone. Richie pulled off Jon’s fingers and growled, “Suck them, baby.”  
  
“Mmm, okay,” Jon hummed before he bent to lick the coke off, savouring Richie’s dark taste melding sweetly with the powdered drug. With the flat of his tongue he licked all the coke away from one nipple before concentrating on the other, his buzz was climbing higher as it seeped into his system.   
  
He heard Richie inhaling quickly a few times above him. He glanced up and saw that he’d scooped some of the powder out of the bag with his fingernail and was snorting it. Richie swore softly as the drugs hit his system. Next thing Jon knew, Richie had sunk his hand into his hair and pulled him up, meeting him halfway, taking his mouth in a searing kiss.  
  
“On your knees, Jonny,” he growled and moved himself and the box from the bed as Jon repositioned himself.  
  
Jon gasped when he felt Richie dive face-first between his ass cheeks, rimming his hole with greediness. Jon’s fingers curled painfully into the bedding as his heart beat solidly within his chest as Richie worked open his body with ease and skill.   
  
Richie sucked on one of his fingers then reached for the bag of coke, dipping his finger into the power.  
  
“Mookie?” Jon pleaded, “Please, baby, I need you!” His body was racing and his impatience growing thin.  
  
“You had your fun, Jonny,” Richie breathed as he separated Jon’s cheeks, spat on his hole before inserting the powdered digit, smearing the coke in and around the puckered rose, “My cock’s hard but numb. I want your ass numb so I can fuck you all night long,” he breathed. Richie sucked his finger again, redipping it into the coke, then his ass, “Squeeze my finger, babe.”   
  
Jon did as he was asked. It wasn’t the first time they’d used cocaine in their bedroom play. They’d found the dangerous thrill of using it, highly erotic and the benefit of the numbness it induced made the sessions last longer.  
  
He felt Richie’s fingers grasp at his ass cheeks as he spread Jon wide and took that final step in joining.  
  
Things got messy from then on as Richie scooped a dollop of cream onto Jon’s back, smearing it around, a healthy portion ended up being inadvertently used as lube, and strawberries squashed between fingers added to the mix.   
  
As the drugs wore off their passion for each other climbed to dizzying heights naturally as Jon’s body became the sweetest of desserts. Champagne was drunk and spilled over each other only to be consumed with hot, open mouths and clever, nimble tongues.  
  
As Richie laid down on the soft, welcoming bed it set rose petals flying when the bedding was scooped out of the way.   
  
Jon, stroking himself, so close to the edge of climax, gazed at Richie with a soft smile as he settled himself. He used to think fairytales were for children but he knew now that he’d been allowed to write his own. He’d had the wicked foster parents, he’d run away and found his Prince Charming and now they could live happily ever after.   
  
“Cowboy?!” Richie queried as Jon swiped away a tear from his cheek, “Jonny, baby? Is everything okay?” He sat up partially, in alarm.  
  
Jon offered him a tremulous smile and said, “Everything is just perfect, my Prince.” He moved into Richie’s open arms and their final coupling was tender and loving. It was exactly how Jon had imagined it would be.  
  
Laying spent afterwards, Richie pulled the covers up over their sated, sticky bodies and held Jon as close as possible as they drifted toward sleep’s welcoming arms.  
  
“I love you, Mookie,” Jon whispered. He felt Richie’s sigh brush his cheek and his arms tightened just a little more.  
  
“Whatever happens, Cowboy.”  
  
  
**Ten Years Later**  
  
“Run, Seb!” Jon called out from under the beach umbrella. He laughed as Richie chased their six-year-old son around on the sand as the waves nipped at their ankles.  
  
“Papa!”   
  
Jon looked down to the little blonde sitting in his lap, pointing to Richie. Jon kissed the top of her head and tickled her, saying, “Silly Papa, huh?!”   
  
Lia clapped her sandy little hands and giggled. She wriggled free from Jon’s lap and started tottering toward her brother and Papa.   
  
“Mookie!” Jon called and pointed to their daughter heading his way. He got a thumbs-up before scooping Lia up in his arms mid-stride. Jon watched his family as Richie and Lia play-chased Sebastian around.  
  
“Daddy! Help me!” Seb called out as a happy squeal rent the air as Richie ran with Lia toward Seb.  
  
“I’m coming, kiddo,” Jon smiled and pulled his hat firmly down onto his head and pushed his sunglasses up his nose. He kicked off his shoes and took off over the sand down to the waterfront.   
  
Richie had let Lia down so she could chase after her brother.   
  
“Look out, Seb, she’s almost got you!” Jon called as Seb took a gentle dive into the sand, letting Lia fall on top of him in a fit of giggles and happy two-year-old gibberish. “Oh no! She got you! Taken down by a two-year-old!”  
  
“Papa! Daddy! Help me, help me,” Seb giggled, “LiLi got me!” Brother and sister, dark hair and light hair wriggled and play-tussled in the damp sand with Jon watching carefully.  
  
“Lia, gentle, baby girl,” Jon gently chastised as Lia started to bounce on her brother’s belly.  
  
“Hey, Cowboy,” Richie said, scooping his arms around Jon’s waist from behind and resting his chin on Jon’s shoulder. “They’re gonna sleep well tonight.” He dropped a kiss to Jon’s shoulder.  
  
They watched, smiling indulgently, as Sebastian showed Lia how to do sand angels in the soft sand.  
  
“Yeah,” he agreed, and turned in Richie’s arms, “which means we might actually get some alone time tonight.”  
  
“Hmmm, I like the sound of that,” Richie hummed and bent his head to kiss Jon.  
  
“Dada! Papa!” Lia squealed and both kids ran at their legs. Richie smiled and scooped his daughter up and Jon did the same with Seb.  
  
Richie kissed Lia on the tip of her nose and said, “I love you,” before doing the same to Seb, “and I love you too.” The children’s giggles were carried away on the breeze.  
  
Richie turned to Jon with a soft smile and said, “But most of all, I love you, Jonny!” He leaned forward and kissed Jon tenderly.  
  
“Whatever happens, Mookie,” Jon said.


End file.
